


Gravity Falls: The Children of Zaun

by FancyMancy



Category: Gravity Falls, League of Legends
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Gravity Falls Spoilers, League of Legends Lore Spoilers, Multi, Piltover, Post-Rework League of Legends Lore, Zaun, will add more tags as the story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:21:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25731286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyMancy/pseuds/FancyMancy
Summary: The Pines family were one of the many influential families in Piltover. This influence came at a cost, and as Nautilus claims those who do not pay the tithe, the rivals of the Pines planned their downfall and committed a crime so well-executed that it not only left the Pines twins orphaned, but also left their assets ruined and their vaults empty, all stolen without a trace. Dipper and Mabel, along with their Grunkles Stanley and Stanford, their only surviving family members, were cast down to Zaun to be forgotten and left to wallow in their misfortune.Years after the incident, Stanford, the smartest of all four remaining Pines, made a breakthrough that garnered the interest of scientific societies in Piltover. Hoping to see more of his work in the name of progress, they pulled some strings to give him and his family free entrance to that year's Progress Day, which was a festival held yearly on the Sun Gates to celebrate progress. Little did they know that this single act of kindness would change the direction of the lives of the four Pines forever.
Relationships: Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends), Dipper Pines & Ford Pines & Mabel Pines & Stan Pines, Ford Pines & Stan Pines, Mabel Pines/Original Male Character(s), Pacifica Northwest & Dipper Pines, Pacifica Northwest & Mabel Pines, Pacifica Northwest/Dipper Pines
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first fanfic-- and it's a Gravity falls and League of Legends crossover! I had a lot of fun reimagining how the Pines would fit into this world, and the dynamics of the twin cities of Piltover and Zaun provided a perfect setting to put not only the Pines but also the Northwests into the world of Runeterra without derailing much of the lore, at least at the start. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this fanfiction of mine, and don't be afraid to leave a comment, a kudos, or a review! I won't bite, promise :P.

Ah, Progress Day. The most lavish and intelligent festival in all of Runeterra, where benefactors and inventors alike congregate, each person showing all they had done (and had helped others do) in the name of progress for both the city and for the entire human race.

. . . though a few others don't innovate for just the name of progress. 

Meet Preston Northwest, not-so-benevolent benefactor of many upstart researchers looking for deep pockets to fund even deeper dreams and ambitions. Head of the Northwest Clan, Preston is known for being ruthless, cold, and for his immense greed. Each move is made with an eye for business. Each decision made by his never-ending quest for coin. And each coin, in his eyes, was not enough.

In this year's Progress Day, he had two plans. First of which is to flaunt much of what they had funded; flying machines, dispensers, sonic multi-tools, and of course, sweet sweet hextech. His second goal this year, meanwhile, is to find new apprentices to stea-- err, help with their ideas. His old apprentice, a man named Lorann Page, was retiring from Preston's patronage to become a government-hired inventor instead

Preston didn't need that old coot anymore anyways.

His first plan was a blazing success. The Northwest name had been given enough recognition by the government, and many other families looked on with envy, which fueled Preston's ego even further. One of them even came up close to chat with Preston and gawk at his presentation with wonder and badly-hidden jealousy. 

"Preston! My, my. You've certainly outdone yourself." Uren Jaunn, head of the Jaunn Clan, said to him as his eyes feasted on all the Northwests had to offer. His wife, Tia Jaunn, and his son, Hubert Jaunn stood behind him, smiling at Preston with sincerity. 

"A Northwest never disappoints. Outdoing myself is simply a year-to-year goal, my dear Uren." Preston boasted, causing Uren to give a hilariously fake cackle. 

"Hum hum, indeed, Preston. Where's the wife and your daughter?" Uren's eyes darted to Preston's empty side in an effort to change the topic. Preston internally rolled his eyes, clearly seeing through Uren's little tricks.

"There is no place for. . ." Preston was tempted to say women, but he knew all to well not to show this side of his in public. ". . . family. It is for business and progress only, is it not, Uren?" He replied. Uren looked him up and down, clearly expecting something else to come out of Preston's mouth.

"Certainly. Speaking of business and progress, we must go. Pardon us, will you?" Uren said in an apologetic tone. 

"I will. Thank you for. . . browsing my wares, if you know what I mean." Preston joked. Uren gave another fake laugh and then walked off, ushering his family to come along with him in a hurried fashion.

. . . And that was that for that encounter. Preston felt satisfied, recalling the envy within Uren's voice and mannerism, laughing internally at the buffoon and his family. However. . . it would have been more satisfying if his second plan was actually working, which, to Preston's chagrin, wasn't. 

All the brilliant scientists, such as the weird, old, but brilliant researcher Heimerdinger and Jayce, the Man of Tomorrow, had all been taken under the wings of much wealthier families such the Ferros Clan or have become self-sufficient enough to not need any benefactors. In fact, the only inventors left without a benefactor were either low-tier researchers and inventors, liabilities (such as the unstable voltician Klas Henwick), and. . . is that a group of four Zaunites?

Preston frowned and huffed in frustration. First, he found no one to replace Lorann, and now,there were Zaunites in *Progress Day*. No Zaunite, due to their lack of discipline, hygiene, and tact, was allowed to enter this prestigious festival. Unless. . . Of course! Preston recalled a clause within the scientific societies of Piltover. Sometimes, great minds are found in Zaunites (as unrealistic as the notion was), and they were allowed to enter the festival. Preston's frown turned to a mischievous smirk as he started to approach them. Perhaps. . . all was not lost.

All of the bad traits attributed to a Zaunite was, of course, true. Zaunites are apes to the civilized men that are the Piltovans, but even he had to admit that the Zaunites were creative in their uncivility. As he walked, he thought of how he could refine their crude mannerisms into one acceptable in high Piltovan society. And of course, he also thought of how he could make money out of them.

Well, probably not much. But some money was better than none at all. . .

The first one to notice Preston was a little girl who wore a brown sweater, blotched with stains of oil and grease. She smiled widely, her braced teeth showing in earnest, much to Preston's disgust.

"Hey! There's one coming right now, guys!" She yelled at the three others within her group. They looked around where the girl was looking before they set their sights on Preston. They eyed him for a second suspiciously, before all three of them burst into laughter.

"Why are we laughing now, gentlemen?" Preston said as he stopped in his tracks, clearly annoyed at them and their spontaneous laughter. The three took a while to stop, before the little boy (who wore an aviator cap stamped with a pine tree in the middle) started to explain through tears.

"S-Sorry, sir. We wer' just thinkin' there'd be no person that's gonna come near us that's a Piltie, ya'know, sir? We. . . we. . ." The boy continued laughing, stopping from speaking mid-sentence.

". . . we were just surprised somebody actually came near us and all, ay?" One of the older men replied as he cleaned his crudely-made glasses. He looked quite similar to the other man, but more professional (or as professional as a Zaunite can be) and composed. He wore a stained beige coat over a faded red shirt, as well as leather gloves and a leather vest under said shirt. 

"So, Piltie, what business do you have with us? Lookin' for some brains to do yer' workin' for ya?" The other old man interjected. He had a little faded red fez with a little tassel and what seems to be a fish and a dot in the center of it. His voice was rougher than the other, and much much more guttural and old. 

Preston sighed. Perhaps this was going to a grand mistake, but in the name of the Northwest family, risks must be taken, and if it meant hiring a bunch of rowdy Zaunites, so be it. He cleared his throat and started to speak about his proposition of a partnership.

"As you know, Zaunites just aren't allowed here in Progress day at all." Preston's voice was hard. Intimidating. Accusing. He smirked as the four shuffled nervously.

"S-Sir, the society said--"

"I know, I know. There's a loophole and all. The fact that the wardens didn't drag you away the second you got here tells it all." Preston explained.

"Just get to d'point, sir." The smart-looking coot politely said as he smiled at Preston. In response, Preston let out a small sigh, and shrugged.

"In short, my respectable Zaunites, I am hereby offering you a partnership of sorts, with me as your benefactor and you as my. . . apprentices, in a sense." He replied, throwing a forced smile at the four.

They all looked at each other in disbelief. After a few seconds, the two children cheered in joyous excitement as the two old men nodded at Preston with bright smiles, their expressions changing vastly and almost instantly.

"Wonderful! We are, of course, accepting your very generous offer, sir! Just wonderful! What's your name?" The smart-looking one said, a huge smile on his face, void of all hostility and sarcasm. Preston was unfazed by their unadulterated kindness, and just replied seriously and coldly.

"Preston Northwest, head of the Northwest clan. And you four are. . .?" He leaned to the side to look at the twins, who were now celebrating using some kind of advanced and coordinated high-five. 

"The name's Stanford Pines." Smartie replied. "And this's my twin brother, Stanley." Stanford said as he pointed at the other with his thumb. "These two cheerful children are our nephew and niece, Dipper and Mabel. Now, as is probably customary, do you care for a handshake, Mr. Northwest?" He extended a hand to Preston, who's face suddenly shifted uncomfortably. 

Preston debated telling them no, but even he knew that ruining your relationship with an apprentice was like getting a rival to sabotage you, except for free. He reluctantly accepted the handshake, smiling unsincerely as he did so. The handshake lasted a few seconds more than Preston liked, with it only being broken once Stanley suddenly asked about the arrangements that would be made, as well as what their workshop, laboratory, and quarters would look like. Preston sighed in relief as he replied to him in a tone a bit too loudly and happy.

"GOOD question, my dear gentleman. I can't answer it right now, unfortunately, as I believe that for you to truly fathom the quarters, workshops and paraphernalia that I shall provide to aid you in your scientific work, you must see it in person. Follow me, I'll lead you four to the Northwest Compound to see all that we can offer. As an added bonus, the contract is in there and we can sign it immediately." He replied, walking off back to where he came.

The two old men then turned to the twins and beckoned them onward, telling them about what they're going to do next and where they were going. The two cheered as they ran ahead of their Grunkles and walked alongside Preston, much to the latter's evident chagrin.

"I guess we gotta follow the man now, eh?" Ford said to Stan, his face suddenly grave as he watched the three disappear through the crowds within the festival. Stan nodded, his face equally grave.

". . . Yeah. That's what we're gonna do from now on. Follow the man." Stan replied with a heavy sigh. "Look, I know this breakthrough of yours got us here, but I'm not so sure if I can face these types anymore. Not after. . ."

"Stanley. Don't think of the past. Think of the future. If you can't do it for yourself or for me, at least do it for Dipper and Mabel." Ford put a hand on his twin brother's shoulder. Stan smiled at him, his face a mix of both sadness and newfound hope. He simply nodded at him before he started walking towards Preston's direction, albeit with a reluctant gait. Ford followed him shortly after, a single thought running in his vast head.

After a string of misfortunes, things were finally, FINALLY looking up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night before the Pineses move to the Northwest Compound to begin their work, both sets of Pines twins go through their own emotional challenges that will test their bonds both as twins and as family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a lot of fun to write! Enjoy!

It had been a week since they've accepted the offer of partnership from Preston Northwest, and tomorrow, they will officially move in to the Northwest Compound and begin their new lives as apprentices of the Northwest Family.

Since the contract was signed, Dipper had been practically vibrating where he stood, rambling on and on on what they could do with the funding and tools the Northwests could give. Mabel, however, was another and very different story. She couldn't speak of the whole deal, or else she would explode. Every time either her Grunkles or Dipper would start to talk about it, she runs away, yelling "Lalalalala!" as she did so.

The Grunkles, being adults, had been busy preparing all day. They hauled in whatever presentable belongings they had, or at least the ones that were light enough to be brought to the surface like their tools, books, notebooks, stationery and other useful items and notes that they needed. The amount of boxes they had packed totaled to a grand amount of six, with four small ones and two big ones. All of these were stored in Ford's room for the night.

That night, a few hours after they finished packing up, Stan entered Ford's room while holding the contract. His twin was there, poring over some crudely made blueprints in his study over a sickly green lamp-light. Stan cleared his throat, causing Ford to look back and stop what he was doing, his right eyebrow raised.

"Stan? What are you doing here?" Ford asked his brother with an annoyed tone. It was clear that he was in the zone, and Stan had just rudely taken him out of it. Stan, in response, rolled his eyes, walked over to one of the big boxes and sat on it.

"Good to see you, too, Sixer." He replied with a sarcastic voice. "I was just. . . readin' and re-reading the contract, ya'know. . . "

Ford furrowed his brows and interjected. "Didn't we read that already a week ago? I understand everything completely and in fact, I think I could actually recit--"

"I know you're smart, Sixer, but there was something that I missed. I need you to look at it, and quickly." Stan said as he thumbed through the pages of the contract. Ford turned around to his work at this, then back to Stan.

"Alright, Stan." He replied as he stood up from his study, grabbing the chair he was sitting on to bring it closer to Stan. He then sat on it, facing his twin.

Stan nodded at Ford, then started flipping through the pages, looking for something. After a while, he finally found it and showed the page to Ford. Ford leaned in to look, and saw that it was the page containing the terms and conditions that Preston Northwest had placed. Ford leaned to the right and gave Stan a confused look. Stan rolled his eyes and pointed a finger at one of the terms.

“. . . Once signed, all inventions made by you during the duration of our partnership are automatically credited to the Northwest Family, specifically Preston Northwest. The royalties and patents that will normally be yours will also be transferred to the Northwest name instead.” Ford’s eyes traveled across the page as he read, his face unchanging. Stan impatiently waited as Ford read.

“I’m not. . . seeing the problem here, Stan.” Ford peeked at Stan through the top of the page. 

“Wh. . . WHAT?” Stan suddenly stood up, spreading his arms open in exasperation. He looked around as he stuttered, failing to form coherent sentences in his surprise. The leaves of the contract shuffled loudly along with Stan’s movement. Ford leaned back at this, taken aback by Stan’s sudden outburst.

“Stan!” Ford yelled back at him. “What’s possessed you? There is nothing to be mad about!” 

Stan held up the contract once again, his right hand jabbing the part Ford had just read. “Are you stupid?! Are you just going to make a breakthrough that granted us a chance to enrich our lives and then you’re just gonna let some shmuck leech from us?” Stan reasoned.

“Ahg. . .A. . Y-you. . . We’ve went over this, Stan!” Ford stood up and crossed his arms. “Nearly every year, I remind you that we are no longer important. We’ve lost all our influence in that incident and that we can't be pride--”

“Don’t you lecture me! Ever since Shermy and his kid bit the dust, you’ve just been letting people walk all over us repeatedly! And now, here you are again, selling away our dignity!” Stan replied angrily. Ford shook his head in disbelief.

“If you were so concerned about this then you should have been PAYING ATTENTION. What were you even doing that you missed something as important as this when you were there when the damn contract was signed!" He retaliated, jabbing a finger at Stan's chest. 

"Because I thought you were smart enough not to fall for this, Ford! You have always been the smart one and I trusted your judgement. But apparently, I was WRONG. You completely messed it up. You have FAILED US, FORD. YOU HAVE!" Stan shook in his place, his veins bulging in his forehead. Apparently, this struck a chord within Ford, causing him to reply with uncharacteristic vitriol.

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND, STAN! I HAVE MADE SACRIFICES FOR THIS FAMILY EVER SINCE SHERMY AND HIS SON AND DAUGHTER-IN-LAW DIED! YOU HAVE DONE NOTHING. THAT IS WHY YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY I DO WHAT I DO. YOU HAVE BEEN COMPLETELY USE. . . ” Ford suddenly stammered. Something inside him implored him to stop, pretty much pressing the brakes in his speech. He looked up at Stan, his face slowly being washed out of angered and instead filled with regret and shame. Stan's face was unreadable, and they stared awkwardly at each other, both of them reluctant to make a move.

An awkward silence replaced the heated anger that was oh-so-palpable mere moments before as the two men stood still in their spots. Only their inhales and exhales could be heard, with faint background noises made by the ruckus in the city below them. After a full minute, Stan suddenly spoke, albeit in a shocked and hasty tone.

“I. . . I'm sorry. I didn't. . . I didn't mean to insult you. It just came out of my mouth, a-alright?” Stan told Ford with a sincere and apologetic tone as he looked down. His eyes were starting to get Misty, and Ford’s was, too. By this point, both brothers have curbed their anger, and were now seeing the real tragedy. 

Ford raised his shaking hand and put it in Stan's shoulder, causing the latter to look back up at him. 

“I. . . I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to degrade you as a person, Stan. I lied. I lied about me doing everything. I know that you made some sacrifices too for our family. We all did.” Ford replied. Stan wiped his eyes with his hand, and smiled meekly.

"I just thought that this was unfair. Y-you got us new opportunities, only for you to seemingly throw it away by having some rich heir that hasn't worked a day leech off all our. . . well, YOUR achievements. I wanted to see you shine again just like you did before we were cast down to Zaun, you know?" Stan explained himself. Ford nodded in understanding.

"I'm touched, Stan. But you must understand that we aren't the famous Pineses anymore. To our neighbours, we are just like them. To the Piltovans, we are just like our neighbours. Once a Zaunite, always a Zaunite. For us to continue thriving, we must play the part. Do you get that?" Ford said to Stan as he darted his eyes to the window which showed the green chemically-lit city that surrounded them. 

"Yeah. I get that." Stan muttered. "This should've never been an argument. We should've just discussed this as adults, you know?"

"Indeed. At least we ended this argument civilly. Awkward sibling hug?" Ford offered his other hand to Stan. Stan laughed softly, and took it. Both brothers hugged each other warmly, all the anger that had been there replaced instead with love and understanding. Both brothers cherished the moment and stayed in that position for minutes after, neither one willing to let go. . .

. . .

Mabel and Dipper were on their shared bedroom, looking out of the windows that were situated over each bed. Both of them were very tired; Dipper’s incessant talking and talking left his throat scratchy, so much so that he wasn’t even able to raise his voice anymore. Mabel, however, was tired from all the running she did as she avoided being excited by the fact that they were moving to the Northwest Compound very soon (mission failed, by the way), leaving her feet red and noodly. Plus, all the packing that they did really did a number on their energy. Dipper’s endless notes took much of his personal belongings. Meanwhile, Mabel had a LOT of her own materials and sweaters that she had made crammed into her own box, ironically making it one of the heaviest despite being filled with the lightest textiles,

“. . . Dipper?” Mabel said out of the blue, causing her twin to let out a small squeak of surprise. Dipper coughed and cleared his throat, replying with an obviously modified deep voice.

“Hoooowhat, Yes? Mabel?” He replied, turning his head towards her. At first glance, she seemed sad, and Dipper, being the good brother that he is, noticed it immediately. 

“I’m thinkin’. . .Now that we’re gonna go get outta here. . . Do you think we’ll see your friends again? From when we were children?” She asked Dipper.

“Mabel. . .” He started, trying to strike a balance in his tone that was soft and sympathetic while not being condenscending. “I. . . don’t think that they will remember us. We were children then, and they were, too.” 

Mabel went silent at the thought, letting out a tired sigh. She raised her hand and twirled a finger through her messy brown hair as she looked outside the the bustling city below. Dipper stared at her, thinking of what to do to cheer her up. 

“You can find new friends up there in Piltover. You remember when you had a little show at the playground? People ga--”

“Dipper. I know what you’re trying to do.” She interrupted him with a sad tone. “It won’t be the same, and we’re Zaunites now. No Piltovan would let their child anywhere near us.”

“I-I heard that Mr. Northwest has a daughter, you know. Pazifia Northwest? I think?” Dipper looked up as he cupped his chin in his left hand, thinking thoughtfully.

“It’s Pacifica Northwest, not Pazifia.” Mabel chuckled bitterly. “Do you honestly think that she would even get to see us? The likes of Mr. Northwest wouldn’t even let us touch the same ground she tread upon.”

Dipper was sure that Mabel was falling into a rabbit hole of sadness at this point. It was high  
ly unusual for her to be this negative. She was always the light of their lives, an ever-lighted beacon of hope. She had to be really bummed out to be like this. He stood up and hopped off his bed, then started walking towards her.

Mabel turned to look at him in confusion and watched as he sat on the edge of her bed. He patted the empty spot beside him, beckoning her to come over. She obliged, turning around to sit at the spot he had patted down. Dipper smiled at her once she did so, nodding appreciatively.

“Mabel, I know that you’re thinking of what happened when we were very young. I don’t remember it that well, too, as we’re the same age. . .” Dipper chuckled. “But I want you to know that while the Piltovans have basically shunned us, I’m sure people our age don’t agree with them. It’s all the stinking adults that tell their children to avoid Zaunites, and you know how people of our age are. Rules are for squares! Right?” He elbowed Mabel playfully, causing her to give an involuntary giggle.

“Hey! That wasn’t fair, you tickled me!” Mabel protested while laughing. 

“And what about the Piltovan boys, ay? I heard they like trouble. Bubbly trouble, in fact. Am I right, or amirite?” Dipper continued elbowing Mabel at the side, causing her to fall over in laughter. 

“Okay! Okay! You got meeeeee!” She said as she flailed around her bed, unable to stifle her laugh. Dipper joined her in her laughter, complying with her protests. 

Freed of the tickles, Mabel carefully sat back up, a wide Mabel-like smile now on her face. She playfully punched dipper on the shoulder, giggling as she did so. Dipper, instead of flinching, smiled back, rubbing the spot where Mabel had punched him in jest. 

"Are you okay now, Mabel? Because you look pretty okay to me." Dipper joked. Mabel crossed her arms and closed her eyes, giving him an overplayed 'hum!'. 

“I guess so. Thanks, Bro-Bro. You’re the best friend I could’ve ever asked for, you know?” Mabel said, putting an arm around Dipper’s shoulders with a very sincere tone, though she immediately replaced it to a tone more usual to Mabel; a very happy and jokey one. “You really do know how to make a girl happy, ay?” She jested. Dipper turned red, and his eyes darted around for something to distract himself in to hide further embarrassment. 

“Y-Yeah. Whatever, Mabel! It’s just my job as the elder twin, you know!” He stammered. Mabel leaned in and jabbed a finger on his chest, pouting. “If I remember correctly, I am the elder twin. What was it? Ah, 5 minutes older! Yeah!” She replied. 

"Nuh uh! According to Grunkle Stan--" 

"WELL! According to Grunkle Ford, however. . .!" 

This back and forth continued for quite a while, each claim getting more ridiculous and convoluted every time. Mabel was now back at her usual self, which encouraged Dipper to continue joking with her as to not make her sad again.

This ended, however, when they both heard the voices of their Grunkles fighting. Their voices were muffled, but the anger was easily heard through the jumbled sounds emanating from Grunkle Ford’s room. Dipper and Mabel looked at each other, and froze. 

“What’s happening?” Dipper whispered to Mabel, who shook her head and shrugged.

“I dunno, Dip. It’s. . . really loud, though, so it must be important.” She replied.

Dipper thought for a second, looking out at the door. “We should go in there.”

“I-I don’t think so, bro. I think we might just make it worse.” Mabel hugged her legs close to her as Dipper sprawled on her bed. 

“Ugghhh. . . Why now? And what now?” Dipper groaned as he looked up to the ceiling, wincing when he heard Stan shout loudly.

“I. . . guess we should wait until they quiet down and check it out?” Mabel suggested, and Dipper nodded, as he, too, thought of just waiting it out. 

They stayed in their positions in silence, waiting out the argument of their Grunkles. As they heard Ford shout very very loudly, both of them cringed in unison. They stood as still as a tuning fork then, listening intently for what may come next. But nothing came next except the sound of silence. They both looked at each other, then back at the doorway.

Sensing that it was their cue, Dipper and Mabel got off the bed and headed out of their room, sneaking across the living room and then to Ford’s room. Inside, they saw their Grunkles hugging each other, tears in their eyes. 

"Awww! That's cute! What should we do?" Mabel asked Dipper in a hushed tone. Dipper shrugged. 

"I think they made up. Just pretend we just got here, alright?" Dipper replied to Mabel, who gave him a thumbs up. 

After a while, their Grunkles broke their embrace, finally noticing the two standing just outside of their door. Mabel waved at them with a sly smile while Dipper put both of his hands behind his back, looking off to the side.

“Oh! Uhm. . . Hello there, Dipper and Mabel.” Ford said to them in an apologetic tone. “Did you. . . hear us?” He added, a bit of shame present in his tone. The twins nodded, causing Ford to wince.

“I’m sorry. We just. . . had a heated discussion.” Stan interjected. “I promise it won’t happen again. It was my fault.” He continued. Ford looked at him, and put a hand on his shoulder.

“We should just forget about it. It was both of our wrongdoings that caused this argument.” Ford said to Stan, who nodded. “Come here, children.” He then said to the twins, who complied immediately.

“I’m very sorry you had to hear that. I hope this didn’t kill your excitement for tomorrow.” He apologized. "Your Grunkle and I have reconciled our differences, as you can see." Ford chuckled, causing Stan as well as the twins to smile. 

"I'm glad you guys resolved that junk. We can't be divided in times like these. . ." Mabel muttered. Dipper nodded at her, as if to say that he wanted to say the same thing. 

"Indeed. These are times where we should be especially strong and bonded." Ford patted Mabel in the head, causing her to giggle approvingly. 

"I think this calls for a GROUP HUG!" Mabel yelled suddenly, surprising her Grunkles and Dipper for a second. She then launched herself at Grunkle Stan, causing him to fall back a little as he caught her with his arms. Dipper joined her shortly after, throwing himself at Grunkle Ford instead. Soon enough, all four of them were hugging each other intimately. As the hug continued, all of their worries, doubts, and problems faded away, replaced by camaraderie, happiness, and most importantly. . .

Love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww. Did you like it? Well, leave a kudos, comment, and maybe even a review!


	3. First Day - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's now the start of their first day of working for the Northwests! Dipper and Mabel are thrilled to finally see the whole breadth of Piltover for the first time in their sentient lives while Stan and Ford are wary of the darker aspects of the gilded city of progress.

It’s a sunny day in Piltover. 

Dipper and Mabel held their hands out over their heads as they walked towards the Northwest Compound, feeling the bright beams of sunlight that lit the City of Progress. Such weather was rare in Zaun, and whenever the twins got the chance to be in Piltover, the first thing they always did was to bathe themselves in the natural yellow sunlight. Piltovans looked on at them with a mix of confusion and disgust, as all they see were two ragged zaunite children, never looking past their appearances. 

“Man! This place rocks!” Dipper said excitedly as he gawked at the gilded buildings that dotted the streets. “It’s. . . so. . . YELLOW!” He exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air. Mabel followed his example, exclaiming a loud “YEAH!” herself.

“Settle down now, children. People are looking.” Stan whispered to the two. Dipper and Mabel pouted, though they followed their Grunkle Stan’s order. Both of them stuck their hands in their pockets in order to contain their excitement, though they couldn’t help themselves with all the gawking and staring. 

Eventually, all four of them finally reach the Northwest Compound. When they saw it far away, they’d thought that it was going to be grand. However, when they finally got a closer look, all of them decided that it was not just grand; it was completely extravagant. Too extravagant, even.

The front lawn of the Northwest Compound was definitely a sight. Finely trimmed hedges shaped like Is and Ls were present, their square rose-bearing bushes forming a symmetrical maze-like garden. A beautifully crafted fountain was also prominently displayed in the center, a lone angel acting as the exit of the water flowing within and into the fountain’s circular basin. Smooth cobble paved into the finely kept grass acted as the path in this exquisite garden, each path leading into the different buildings within the compound. The caretakers of the garden, clad with blue overalls and sporting toolboxes fit for gardening and lawn maintenance were scattered all over the place, each one of them working on their own designated assignments. 

“This. . . is. . . AWESoooooooome.” Dipper said with gusto. He’d almost yelled out at the ‘awesome’ part, but he remembered what Grunkle Stan had told him. Mabel simply swooned into Ford’s arms, no longer able to take any more excitement. The smarter Pines chuckled slightly as he hoisted Mabel up and into his shoulders. 

“It’s not awesome. It’s wasteful.” Stan commented in his signature gruff tone. He walked forward and shook his head, huffing. This negative reaction earned him a look from the younger twin pines, both of them exasperated at what he’d just said.

“Stanley.” Ford muttered towards Stan, annoyed. “This is not the time.” 

“. . . Right. I jus’. . . you know, we’re strugglin’ down there and then the Pilties come on in and throw money on slightly greener gardens. It’s a shame. A real shame.” Stan explained as he caressed his forehead with his right hand. Ford walked up to him and placed a hand on his left shoulder. 

“I know, but I shouldn’t have to tell you this every time. To tell you the truth, this is getting old. We must learn to humble and to be subservient for now. It’s the only thing we can do to secure a future for us beyond the green city.” Ford said, shaking his head. “I’m going to say it now; I hate how wasteful all of this is, too. I hate how arrogant the people here are. The difference between you and I is that I know when to keep my thoughts to myself for the greater good.” 

Stan bit his lip and nodded. “I. . . I guess I’ll learn to keep me mouth shut. Let’s. . . jus’ go on in and get this over with.” He continued. After he spoke, Stan went ahead of the three, following the cobble path that lead to the middle building. 

Ford, Dipper and Mabel stood there as they watched him walk alone. The twins heard their Grunkle Ford sigh to himself, causing their gazes to move from Stan to him. He gave them both a small smile and patted both of them on the head. 

“Let’s go follow Stan. I’m sure that you’re excited to get inside.” Ford said towards Dipper and Mabel with a gruff yet endearing tone. The two nodded at him, and Ford, satisfied with their answers, finally started following Stan who was now at the doorstep of the main building. 

====

The door to the main building of the Northwest Compound was big. It was like the gates of Demacian Castles and of the Noxian arenas, though the former seems more appropriate. A giant gear-like contraption situated in the middle of it acted both as the decoration and the mechanism of the door itself. Stan, highly apprehensive of touching such expensive and sensitive items, nudged Ford forward to do it instead. The smarter Pines could not do anything but to oblige, as he knew that Stan wasn’t going to budge. He grabbed Mabel and put her down on the ground before clearing his throat and knocking on the door three times.

A few seconds passed by before a small hatch opened on the right side of the door. A bald porter peeked out from the hatch and started inspecting them closely. Both Mabel and Dipper felt deeply uncomfortable with how the guy’s eye was moving around like it wasn’t restricted to its socket, though Ford found it quite interesting instead. Perhaps he had a prosthetic?

“. . . Hmmm. . .” The porter murmured to himself. “What’s your business here, Zaunites?” He said in a mocking tone. Stan had half a mind to punch him through the hatch then and there, but Ford’s words a few minutes ago were still fresh on his mind. He miraculously held himself back, opting to grumble instead.

“We are the Pines family. I assume that you’ve already been briefed on any potential visitors, though our attire may not really match with who you’re supposed to expect.” Ford said towards the porter with an uncharacteristic amount of sarcasm and venom. “I understand.” He added, a fake smile on his face.

The porter struggled to get another word out. He stared at the four of them for a little bit more before grumbling. “I guess I’ll have to let you in. One moment!” The porter withdrew his head from the hat and closed it, leaving the Pineses to wait outside one more.

A few seconds later, the gears in the middle of the door suddenly started moving. The door parted at the middle, with each part of the door sliding to opposite directions. As they parted, numerous pipes and pistons whirred and grumbled as the door opened, generating steam that was spewed out through miniature vents within the bottom and top of the door frame. After an impressive and frankly inefficient ten seconds, the door was finally open. 

The porter was a weird man. For one, he apparently wasn’t bald at all; his hair was just situated really far back, giving his head the appearance of a fat brown talon. Secondly, the right side of his neck was metallic, though by the looks of it, it ran even deeper than just that. Finally, his right eye was extremely flexible. He could move it anywhere and anytime like it was some kind of white globe. His attire was the only normal feature of his as it was the stereotypical formal getup of black pants and a black vest over a white polo shirt..

“Welcome to the Northwest Compound, my good sirs and madam.” He bowed at each of them, earning a discreet eyeroll from Stan. “My name is Corey Taliana, guardian manager of the services present in the entire place. Now, can you excuse me while I fetch my masters?” He asked towards the two older Pineses 

“We would gladly wait, Mr. Corey.” Ford nodded as he spoke, his still-fake smile plastered upon his face. Corey nodded at them, smiling back, before he turned around and walked away from the four to presumably notify Preston Northwest of their arrival.

All four Pineses stared at him as he went. The younger twins were clearly unnerved by Corey, despite the fact that they’d seen worse prosthetics and weirder people down there in Zaun. Perhaps it was just his natural aura to make people feel that way.

“. . . Well. . . I guess we hafta wait.” Stan muttered, breaking the silence that had started to form. The three others nodded and hummed. 

“This place is nuts.” Dipper murmured as he surveyed the room. In front of them was a grand staircase carpeted with fluffy velvet that lead to the second floor. Under the staircase was one big hallway with many doors dotting it’s sides, with even more luxurious velvet running through it. To their left and right were two separate hallway leading to rooms he could not discern. In the middle of the room was a polished mahogany table paired with a similar chair, which he supposes is Corey’s ‘office’ of sorts. 

“Yeah. It’s masssssiiive.” Mabel affirmed. “There’s so many carpets. So many lights! And they’re not green!” She continued, gushing. “It sure beats all the boring brown brass down there!”

As the two continued discussing the décor, heavy footsteps were heard coming in from the right. Ford poked both Dipper and Mabel on the necks to get them to shut up, knowing that whoever it was wouldn’t want some loud children on their lobby. 

A few moments later, Corey exited the right hallway. He bowed at the Pineses once again. “Mr. Northwest is waiting for you at his office.” He straightened himself up and nodded at Ford. 

“He wants to meet you to get things. . . started.”


	4. First Day - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Pineses are escorted by Corey to Preston Northwest's office to attend a short meeting about their quarters.

The Pineses looked at each other, a sudden wave of anxiety suddenly coming over them. 

“I. . . I see.” Ford said to Corey, nodding. He then turned to the three. “Well, you heard him. We can’t keep Mr. Northwest waiting.” 

“’A’ight.” Stan replied in a murmur. He put his hands on Dipper and Mabel’s backs and gave them a slight shove. “Get yourselves moving and behave!” He told them as he walked to Ford’s side. Dipper and Mabel nodded and did as they were told.

“Right this way.” Corey said to them as he turned around and walked to the hallway on the right. Ford was the first one to follow with Stan and the younger twins trailing them close behind.

The hallway much like the rest of the building was colored with a yellow-blue color scheme, though yellow is more dominant in the hallways than in the lobby. The floor and ceiling was completely yellow while the walls had a blue stripe that ran horizontally throughout the entire hallway. There is also yet another velvet carpet running through the middle, though it’s not quite surprising at this point as these are seemingly all over the place in the Northwest compound.

The right wall of the hallway were filled with paintings and certificates as well as the portraits of past Northwest patriarchs. Dipper, whose eyes were ever-watchful in a hunger for knowledge noted that these portraits were done in front of the Northwest compound. With each portrait they pass through, the building behind each featured Northwest kept on getting bigger and bigger.

“Woah.” He muttered, thinking of the history that must be hidden in the compound. He turned to face Mabel in hopes of getting her to look, but it seems that she was busy with her own inspecting herself. Dipper tugged at her arm, causing her to look back at him. 

“What is it, bro?” She asked, confused. 

“What’cha lookin’ at?” Dipper replied in a low whisper. 

Mabel turned back to the left wall where she was looking. “Nothing important. I’m just memorizing the rooms here! This side of the hall is full of doors with some labels I dunno about. I have no idea why they don’t just put words on the signs, but it is what it is. . .”

Dipper nodded at Mabel as he too began to inspect the wall. She was right—there were lots of doors on this part of the wall, each labelled with signs that he can’t fathom. He made a mental note to have his Grunkle Ford ask for a guide from Mr. Northwest, if there’s such a thing. 

Suddenly, their Grunkles abruptly stopped as a smaller stairwell came into view. Dipper and Mabel, unaware of this, bumped into Grunkle Stan’s back. The hardy Pines groaned and looked back at them as he massaged his back. 

“Watch where ya’ goin’, kids! I only got so much time before my back deforms!” He scolded them half-heartedly. Mabel closed her eyes and pouted.

“Well, we wouldn’t have bumped up to you if you didn’t suddenly stop!” She replied.

“Why did you even stop in the first place?” Dipper asked as he swiped his bangs and massaged his forehead, revealing his signature birthmark hidden inside.

“Haven’t you been listenin’?” Stan said as he turned around to face the twins with an annoyed tone. “We’re goin’ up the stairs, or so he says.” He continued, pointing at Corey with his thumb over his shoulder. 

“Wait, he was talking?” Dipper murmured, leaning off to the side. He saw that Ford and Corey were talking, though he wasn’t able to discern what they were talking about. 

“Yes, Dipper. He has been talking ever since we started walkin’ with ‘em.” Stan replied in an amused tone. 

“. . .We miiiiight have tuned him out.” Mabel added, sticking her tongue out and winking. Stan pinched the bridge of his nose and turned around. 

“You two better get listenin’, then. If ya’ get grinded in a freak machine ya’ walk into, we ain’t sheddin’ any tears.” Stan said to the two, though all of them knew that he meant none of it.

”—and that’s the rest of things you must NOT do in his presence. Mr. Northwest is a proud man and I hope that you won’t take too much offense on his admittedly callous words. Stand up straight and be as respectful as polite as you can.” Corey advised to Ford who nodded sagely as he listened. He turned his head around to face Dipper and Mabel.

“Did you two hear that?” He asked. 

“Yeah!” Mabel replied without skipping a beat.

“. . U-um . . Y-Yeah!” Dipper added shortly after with less enthusiasm.

Stan remained silent as he raised his brows and averted his eyes from Ford’s, who turned to look at him. 

“Stan.” Ford said to him warningly. 

“Eyup?” He replied, still refusing to look at Ford.

“. . . Did they listen?” Ford’s tone was now tired, as if he couldn’t bear to deal with this right now.

“. . . Partly.” 

“Stan.” Ford repeated.

Stan groaned internally as he turned around to the kids. “Alright, children. Bottom line of what he was saying was that you should keep yer’ yapps shut when we’re talkin’ to Mr. Northwest, alright? Just be on yer’ best behaviour and let the adults do the talkin’.” He said to them in a serious and gruff tone.

“Yes sir!” Mabel replied enthusiastically. Dipper just nodded.

Stan turned around and looked at his brother. “Are you satisfied?”

Ford bit his lip as he inspected the three others in their troupe. 

“. . . I guess I am. Let’s go.”

====

Corey lead the way as the Pines family ascended the stairwell. Once they were on the second floor, Dipper was stunned to see that the grand staircase lead to the exact same floor. 

“Uhm, Mr. . . Corey?” He asked the porter as he turned around to face him. “Why didn’t we just walk up that staircase? I mean, it’s there.” Dipper pointed to the left where the grand staircase was. 

Corey raised a brow, causing Dipper to think that he’d just did something wrong. However, his fears were alleviated when Corey closed his eyes and chuckled. 

“Ah, that’s off limits for guests and employees alike—even I have limited access to that part of the building.” He explained. Dipper, however, wasn’t satisfied.

“Wouldn’t Mr. Northwest’s office be there, then? That might be why it’s important.” He continued his query, much to the horror of his Grunkles as well as Mabel. 

“Pardon me for the boy, sir—“ Ford tried to apologize, but Corey waved him off.

“It’s no bother, sir. I used to wonder the exact same thing myself.” He said towards Ford who felt a large amount of relief at Corey’s amusement. 

“I have never really seen what’s supposed to be in there and I frankly don’t want to risk my eployment in finding out, though I am still mystified on why the office has to be somewhere inefficient.” Corey continued. 

“Oh. Okay. Thank you.” Dipper meekly replied as he looked down on the floor. 

“It’s no problem.” Corey clasped his hands together and smiled. “Shall we be on our way? Mr. Northwest’s office is right over there.” He asked the others as he pointed at one of the nearby doors. This one was different from the other doors such as the existence of a silver plaque in the upper portion of it. Embossed on the plaque were the words ‘Mr. Northwest’. 

“Yes. We should be.” Ford answered. Corey nodded and turned around as he continued leading the way. Ford, Stan and Mabel started following him like before, though Dipper seemed to be glued to the ground, his eyes fixated on the grand staircase.

He was thinking of what on Valoran could be the reason that Mr. Northwest’s office could be way out there instead of right in the middle. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much, but it definitely did. He was ruminating the myriad of reasons that may have drove Preston Northwest to make that decision when somebody walked into his field of vision. 

A young girl. 

She was the absolute image of a Piltovan lady. Her long blond hair and her deep blue eyes complemented the gold and azure colors of Piltover in earnest. Scratch all of that—she was, in her entirety, pretty much the spitting image of what one would think of or imagine when they personify the city of progress. Dipper found himself staring at this stranger more than he needed to, only looking away once the girl had started descending down the grand staircase.

Wait, what?

“Dipper?” Stan called out to him. “Snap out of it, bud. He already answered yer’ question.” He continued as he patted Dipper on the back. He squeaked out in surprise, causing him to cover his mouth. 

“S-Sorry.” 

====

Corey opened the door to Mr. Northwest’s office, revealing the room within. It was the same color as the rest of. . . well, everything. In the middle of the room was Mr. Northwest’s table. It was made of polished wood and shaped like a bean surrounding a slot in the middle where Mr. Northwest sat. Scattered around the table were numerous stacks of paperwork, office tools and equipment as well as a cute little mechanism that acted as a nice little decoration. In the front face of the table was a silver plaque like the one at the door, though this time, the words on it were ‘Preston Northwest’ instead. 

Corey took the first step inside and bowed at Preston. “The Pineses are here, sir.” He spoke as he bowed, though it elicited no reaction from him.

A few moments sped by before Preston looked up from what he was doing. He had reading glasses on, which he took off as he inspected the Pines’ faces.

“. . . Corey, get these good fellows some seats.” He ordered at Corey. Corey bowed again. 

“Of course, sir.” He said before turning around and grabbing a stack of stools that sat in the corner. He set them down one by one around the circumference of the semicircle table. After he was done, Preston gestured at these seats for the Pineses to sit on them. They obliged and sat on the chair nearest to them.

Preston took another good look at them before standing up straight and resting his arms on the table. 

“I’m sure that you’re all wondering why I called you here.” He began to speak. “And the reason for that is. . . that I’m not really sure what you’re good at. I know that an employer must know their employees, but the. . . err, spontaneous nature of your employment has not really allowed us to discuss these topics in detail back in Progress Day.”

That was true, Ford thought. They discussed the contract, sure, but the desperation in both their minds must’ve made them forget to talk about those things. He nodded sagely at Preston, making sure to give a small smile.

“We. . . are artificers, Mr. Northwest. We specialize in both Piltovan and Zaunite hextech.” Ford answered. 

“Piltovan and Zaunite hextech, eh? I see.” He took out a pen and wrote that down. “Now, another reason I had to ask this is that there’s many departments in the Northwest compound, much like the other families. There’s researchers for ballistics, entertainment, military, astronomy and so much more. We can’t possibly allow all of these different professionals to work in the same place with the same tools, right?”

Ford nodded once more.

“And since you’ve said that you specialize in hextech, you will have to reside on. . . the west wing of the compound.” Preston continued speaking as he also continued writing. “That’s where our equipment are for hextech technology.” 

“Where exactly will we reside in? Is there a dormitory in the west wing?” Stan asked this time with an obviously modulated tone, trying to come off as soft-spoken as possible.

“Good question. There are, unfortunately, no dormitories of some sort in the compound. We’ve never really had to deal with. . . Zaunites. . . before, and so, everyone who worked under us often were able to return to their homes.” Preston answered. Stan crinkled his nose when the former said the word ‘zaunite’, feeling offended at the way he danced around the term.

“I see.” Stan replied.

“However, don’t fret. I will make arrangements to set up a dormitory of sorts just for you four. It will take a while, maybe three days or so, and that’s why that I’m also setting up a temporary room for you in the laboratory itself, unless of course you feel uncomfortable with that? Though I assume that it’s not much different than living in that dirty city of yours.”

Stan and Ford looked at each other. Stan was fuming, and Ford knew it. The latter turned to Preston Northwest and smiled.

“You would be right on that. That’s why that we’re completely okay with those arrangements.” He replied. He heard Stan grumble to himself as he spoke, and he had half a mind to step on his boot.

Preston cracked yet another smile. He reached for the paper he had been writing on ever since the conversation started and put it on the top of the nearest stack of paperwork. “Then that would be all that I need to talk to you about. Unless you have any questions?”

Dipper perked up. He wanted to ask on how this whole patronage thing was going to work, and so did Mabel. They weren’t exactly briefed themselves on the dynamic of their partnership. Both were about to raise their hands when. . .

“No questions left, sir.” Ford replied.

“Then it’s settled. Corey?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Escort our new artificers to their quarters. . .”


	5. Argument at First Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper and Mabel are refused the thing that they've been waiting for.

It’s now the early morning of their second day.

Much of the first day had been spent preparing the lab and their temporary quarters. Corey, the porter (and probably the manager of the entire building at this point) had pointed them towards the materials and furniture they needed to set up both, courtesy of Preston Northwest. The elder Pineses assigned themselves on taking care of the former while the younger Pines twins worked on the latter. 

Dipper laid down lazily on the top bunk of their bunk bed, chewing on piece of straw. He’d been assigned there after he lost a bet he had made with Mabel while they were preparing their beds, though he was pleasantly surprised when he found out that the air conditioning was just on an arm’s reach by the person on the top bunk. Mabel had tried to rescind their bet upon learning about this, refusing to resign to a fate of being under Dipper’s control over the elements. Their Grunkles forced her to accept the results of the bet, much to her chagrin. 

“Dipper, can you make it a little bit hotter in here?” Mabel complained. “It’s sooo cold! Why did this place have to be underground! They said nothing about the lab being underground!” 

Dipper crinkled his nose. “You complain too much, Mabel. And you know that I don’t really know how to work this Piltie machine! All I know is that left is hot and right is cold!”

“Then turn it _slightly_ to the left, genius!” She shouted. Dipper groaned in response as he took hold of a dial and turned it a little bit to the left. 

“. . . Are you done doing it?” Mabel asked, poking her head out of her bed to peek at Dipper.

“Mabel. It’s. . . an air conditioner. Not an air miracle. Can’t you wait a few seconds?” He answered as he rolled his eyes in annoyance.

Suddenly, Stan parted the curtains separating the bunk beds of the Grunkles and the twins. He inspected the two of them, his brows furrowed.

“You two gon’ bicker all day or are ya’ gon’ try an’ get ready for the day?” He said to them in a tone that seemed angry on the outside. The twins knew that he wasn’t serious, though, so it was all in good humor. 

“I dunno, Grunkle Stan. Maybe I’d stay here and enjoy BOTTOM BUNK!” She yelled out the last two words at Dipper. 

“Oh yeah? You might not be prone to waking up with dreams of falling, but I have the power over the elements, MABEL.” He shot back.

“. . . Which you don’t understand how to use.”

“Neither do YOU!”

Stan clapped his hands behind the curtain once to get their attention. The two stopped their little argument and turned to him. 

“Look, if you want to bicker there all day, be my guest. But if yer’ gon’ do that then at least be quiet.” He said, annoyed. Both kids knew that they were being scolded them for real this time, so both of them shut up.

“. . . Good.” He grumbled as he disappeared over the curtain. 

Dipper and Mabel looked at each other once they were sure that he was out of earshot before blowing raspberries at each other. Mabel walked off her bed and went outside with a ‘harrumph’. Dipper followed shortly after, his steps a little more heavier than they usually were. 

Stan was now sitting on a stool in the middle of the room beside a bean-shaped machining table. He was apparently drinking coffee, as evidenced by his favourite mug that sat on the top of the table. Ford was talking with him while he held a blueprint, so Dipper assumed that he was talking with Stan about work. 

“Oh hello there, Dipper and Mabel!” Ford greeted them with a chipper tone. He pulled out two more stools from behind the table, placing them between him and Stan. The twins sat on both of them, with Mabel on the left and Dipper on the right. 

“Are you ready for actual work? I know that we hyped things up at the first day, but we needed to get you energy up to help us with the ‘housework’.” Ford smiled as he spoke, only to be greeted with groans from Dipper and Mabel.

“You almost made us fall over with boredom, Grunkle Ford!” Mabel groaned as Dipper nodded in agreement. 

“Yeah! When are we going to do something exciting like hextech?!” Dipper added to what Mabel said with a hint of desperate excitement. “I can’t wait to see what we’re gonna work on today!”

Ford shook his head and chuckled. “You don’t do hextech yet, kids. It’s. . . a very dangerous process. Dealing with magic is dangerous. Dealing with technology Is dangerous. Dealing with both is an outright gamble. It’s better for you to let us deal with the actual inventing on this one.” He explained. 

Both twins suddenly went silent. 

“But. . . didn’t you let us do it back in Zaun?” Mabel asked, crestfallen.

“. . . That was chemtech, honey. This stuff is different.” Stan answered. 

“But isn’t chemtech worse than hextech in safety?” Dipper added.

“It is, but—“

Suddenly, the twins went on a rabble-frenzy. They’d been excited this whole week over _nothing_. They wanted to come here in hopes of meddling with hextech, and then they apparently couldn’t do it?!

“We didn’t lose any fingers on that!”

“You let us handle heavy tools, and we loved it!”

“You’ve never made us back off a project before!”

“I mean, we’re intact, ri—“

“That’s quite enough.” Ford said to them, his voice raised, with a sense of finality. Both twins shut up. “We let you do chemtech because of the fact that you've been exposed to it most of your life, and that's why we taught you that. We were comfortable with letting you kids meddle with things that since we knew that you were already familiar with it.. We also know how to teach you hextech, but since you haven’t been exposed to the tools used to make it as well as the actual process back down in Zaun, we are not comfortable with letting you get into it right now.”

Mabel opened her mouth to speak, but Ford shushed her.

“Make no mistake.” He continued, his tone sincere. “We are not saying that you won’t ever learn how to make hextech and that we won’t ever teach you. We’re just saying that you need to get familiar with it first, and to have you jump in into dealing with it immediately is irresponsible—“

“Well, like you said, we never saw you do hextech in Zaun. So how do you know how to do it, huh?! Are you lying to Mr. Preston about knowing hextech?!” Mabel suddenly stood up and pointed her finger at both of her Grunkles as she interrupted what Ford was going to say.

“Mabel!” Dipper tugged at his sister’s sweater, his eyes wide. 

Stan and Ford seemed stunned at her accusation, and Dipper had a feeling that it wasn’t just because Mabel was disrespecting them greatly. The air in the laboratory seemed so thick that one could cut through it with ease. 

“Mabel, that is no way to talk to us.” Ford wagged a finger at her. “And we are in no way lying to the Northwests. While you've never seen us do hextech, Stan and I know it by heart--”

Stan suddenly set down his mug with an unnecessary amount of force. The three others in the room looked at him, surprised. 

“--and the reason that we know it is a long story that has to be told another day. You know what, kids? Why don’ ya’ two go outside and run some errands? There’s some materials that the Northwests bought for us that need to be picked up at the sun gates.” He said to the twins, a fake smile plastered across his face. 

Mabel looked like she wanted to continue pressing the issue. Ford, who noticed this, set down the blueprint and patted her on the head.

“Sweetheart, we’ll tell you everything when you’re ready. It is a really long story that you two can’t hear yet. I know that telling you this would just make you want to find out more anyway, but. . . that’s the truth. We aren’t lying at you two. For now, just. . . do what Stan’s telling you to do, huh? You both should take a bath and get prepared for the day, anyway. Corey’s brought down some Piltovan-styled clothes for us to wear last night.” 

Mabel looked off to the side as she thought things over. She was still frowning, but she at least seems pacified.

“. . . Fine.”

====

Mabel and Dipper roamed the Piltovan streets, clad in the Piltovan clothes that Mr. Northwest had given them. They weren’t too fancy, but in Mr. Northwest’s own words; ‘At least the four of you no longer look like you’re from Zaun’. 

Stan had taken offense to that when it was dropped in the middle of their conversation last night, as evidence by his tone when Mr. Northwest walked out of earshot. Dipper and Mabel were making their bedbunk bet then, and Ford had to pacify Stan like usual. 

As Dipper scrutinized the map of Piltover that he was given, he traced the paths they’ve taken from the Northwest Compound to the Sun Gates. They were supposed to pick up the cargo from the Wharfside docks, which means that it’s situated at the east. 

“Wharfside. . . Wharfside. . .” Dipper muttered as he peeked out of his map to stare at the street signs. “Wharfside, whereforth are th—“

“Ow!” Mabel suddenly exclaimed as she hit her head on the pole of a street lamp. Dipper looked over at her, confused on how she’d hit her head on such an obvious obstacle. 

“Are you okay, Mabel?” He asked worriedly.

Mabel nodded as she massaged her forehead. “Y-Yeah. I was just. . . out of focus, I guess.”

Dipper sighed, knowing where this will go. “Mabel. I know you’re bummed out about the whole thing, and I am too. But you didn’t have to shout at them.”

“I was just really shocked, Dipper. When we were down there, we worked on chemtech like we were professionals!” Mabel frowned, remembering all the tinkering they did down in Zaun.

“I know, Mabel. But I refuse to do this again. This is getting old.” Dipper patted his sister in the back. 

“Why are you so calm about this? You’re the smarter twin! You’re supposed to be a work hog!” 

Dipper pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly tired of this topic. 

“I’m not panicking because I know that we’ll eventually do it, and in SAFER conditions. Didn’t you hear? We’re gonna run basic errands for them and help them with the most basic mechanical work at first. Then, as we get exposed to hextech, then they’ll teach us.” He explained in an annoyed tone. 

“I know, but—“

“Mabel.” Dipper said to Mabel in a warning tone. 

Mabel crossed her arms and turned away from Dipper. He thought that he'd just made her even madder, but he was relieved when she didn't speak another word about the issue. Convincing Mabel is like talking to a brick wall, and it's a herculean task that Dipper's noodle arms can't even dream to do. 

Oh well, small victories.


	6. The Sun Gates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper and Mabel run an errand for their Grunkles and strike a 'friendship' with a cargo boy.

The Sun Gates are a series of seagates that act as the canal between the coasts of inner Valoran to the rest of the world, particularly Ionia and the Serpent Isles. Gilded gates and pillars of brass and gold make for a mesmerizing sight especially when accompanied by lines upon lines of mercantile ships from all over Runeterra. Behind the guise of progress and prosperity, however, lies a disturbing history for the Sun Gates. 

While the Sun Gates were being constructed, several reckless techniques and dangerous materials were used in order to carve through the cliffs of Piltover and Zaun. One day, one of these practices backfired spectacularly with an explosion. This explosion caused parts of Zaun to fall down to the sea, resulting in the death of many Zaunites. This explosion allowed the last parts of the Sun Gates to be constructed at the cost of many lives. The Piltovans considered it a day of achievement, while the Zaunites considered it a great tragedy. These differing opinions, as well as the circumstances of the explosion itself, contributed to the already-present rift between the twin cities. 

As both Dipper and Mabel walked through the streets near the Sun Gates, the former thought of that history. He gawked at everything that caught his attention, which was almost everything that was present in the Sun Gates. Items from all over the world—Petricite wares, bricks of noxtorra, Ionian tea and sea-hides from the Serpent Isles were ferried to-and-fro from one port to another in an everlasting cycle of trade. 

“This place is stacked, Mabel. There’s. . . So. . . Much!” Dipper exclaimed excitedly as he pointed at the crates of goods that were scattered around the docks and warehouses. 

“Well, it is _just_ the center of all trade all over the world.” She replied, her usual energy returning to her voice as she slowly forgot about what happened in the early morning. 

“Yeah, yeah I know. It’s just. . . everything! Is here! You can name something from a foreign land and find it!” He continued raving, sparkles in Dipper’s eyes. 

“Don’t act too excited, Dip-dop. They may think that you’re crazy in the head.” Mabel poked Dipper’s side, causing him to twitch. 

“Ouf! Oh—Uhm, yeah. Of course.” He chuckled apologetically. 

“Where is the thing we’re supposed to pick up, anyway?” 

“. . . Well, Grunkle Ford said that it’s at the Wharfside docks. That means that it’s from Bilgewater, which is, like, to the east of here?” Dipper consulted the map, pulling it out from his pocket. 

“Every crate here are either Demacian or Noxian goods, so we’re probably at the opposite side of where we are supposed to go.” Mabel said with a sigh. “You focus so much on the goods yet you don’t even notice that we’re on an entirely different section.”

“Sorry.” Dipper apologized again. “I’m just. Wowed. Really.“

Mabel was tired of Dipper’s repetition at this point. She put a hand to her forehead and massaged it. “I get it, Dipper. Let’s just—“

 **”PILTOVER ENFORCERS, COMING THROUGH!”** A female voice suddenly rang out. Everyone, including Dipper and Mabel turned to the source of the voice. It was. . .

“Officer Vi!” One of the bystanders exclaimed. 

A tall woman with short pink hair and two giant robotic fists suddenly barreled through the marketplace, pursuing what seems to be a pale-skinned, thin and blue-haired girl. The former had two policemen—One stout man and one fit lady with a funny way of running--following her, though they seem to have a hard time keeping up with Vi. The latter was alone, though she had an entire arsenal of weapons strapped on her back. 

“YOU’LL NEVER CATCH ME, FAT HANDS!” The blue-haired girl jeered at Vi as she fired a shot from what seems to be a taser pistol of some sort. Vi lifted up one of her gauntlets and caught the shot, fizzling it harmlessly.

“Is that. . .?” Dipper’s eyes widened. 

“Jinx.” Mabel said in a low whisper. “She’s one of the lost children, isn’t she?”

“I don’t think so. I think Grunkle Stan told me that she’s just a lone crazy once, blowing up stuff both in Zaun and Piltover because. . . well, she’s. . .” Dipper traced a spiral beside his ear with his pointing finger. 

“I think we should step away from the road.” Mabel said as she stepped backwards and away from the middle of the road. Dipper followed, grimacing. 

“Officer Vi, slow down!” The stout man yelled through the chaos as Vi toppled over a crate of Shuriman cloth to gain some distance. 

“No can do!” Vi replied, a bloodthirsty smile on her face. 

“YOUR FAT HANDS WEAR YOU DO—EEP!” Jinx dodged a crate of Freljordian hides that was thrown to her at Vi, to the anguish of the owner. “LIKE I SAID. . . !”

Eventually, Jinx did a sharp turn, prompting Vi to follow. The wardens called it quits at this at both Vi and Jinx disappeared out of sight and eventually out of earshot. The stout man leaned on a lamp post, panting, while the lady used her baton as a cane to support herself as she caught her breath. Everyone around Dipper and Mabel slowly returned to doing whatever they were doing before the chase, though a few unlucky souls had their cargo ruined by either the enforcer or the criminal. 

“. . . That was wild.” Dipper commented. “I didn’t think that I’d see Jinx wreaking havoc on our second day.”

“. . . I guess we should go?” She said, turning to him. 

“Yeah.” Dipper turned around and looked at the map. He made sure to actually pay attention to it this time, looking up every now and then to compare the streets to the markings on his map. “I think that there’s a shortcut this way. . .”

====

It didn’t take long before they found the crate they were looking for, mostly because Dipper was now paying attention to their pathing. It was located in a warehouse on the far end of the Wharfside docks, which, according to Mabel, ‘stunk differently’. 

Dipper found himself agreeing as he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep the whiff of imported Bilgewater goods off his nose as he waited for the cargo boy to finish tallying their goods. 

He was short for a boy despite being around their age, and he had blond hair and blue eyes. Most of his hair was hidden underneath a blue-red striped beanie. He also spoke with a low-volume and high-pitched voice that had elegant and refined undertones. Finally, the boy seemed quite scrawny due to his brown jacket and black pants being quite baggy despite being just Dipper’s size. He also found the boy to be quite feminine, but that wasn’t really important and he didn’t judge.

“. . . one kilogram of sea-beast teeth.” He listed as he tapped at his notepad. “And finally, a single flask of Jaull sapphilite oil—very valuable.” He looked up from his notepad and looked at Dipper. “That’s all that’s in this crate. Can you tell me who ordered these so that I can log it on our records?” 

“We’re under Clan Northwest.” Mabel replied for Dipper a bit TOO eagerly. Dipper raised a brow at this, worried of the fact that Mabel may have found another boy to dote on. Those never end well. 

The boy’s eyes widened a bit. “That’s. . . .uhm, a n-not a surprise. I guess that if anybody was gonna afford any sapphilite oil, it’s gonna be them.”

“Yup.” Dipper replied dryly, saving as much spit as he could.

“Tany’s gonna be with you In a second. So, uhm, I’ll be going now. Have a nice day!” The boy turned around to attend to another customer, but Mabel tugged at his shirt. 

“Mabel!” Dipper exclaimed in a low whisper, horrified at his sister’s actions yet again. 

“W-What is it?” The boy nervously replied as he turned.

“What’s your name? I’m Mabel and this is Dipper!” Mabel asked, a wide smile on her face, pointing to herself and then to Dipper.

“ _Oh boy._ ” Dipper whispered to himself under his breath.

“. . . Err. It’s. Leopold. Y-You can call me Leo. Nice to meet you g-guys, c-can I get back to work--” He answered. Dipper saw that he was quite uncomfortable and he tried intervening, but Mabel silently pinched him at the side.

Mabel’s eyes sparkled. “Nice to meet you, too, and that’s a great name! Would you mind hanging out sometime?”

“. . . S-Sure. W-When? I’m free at the weekends, though I don’t have a lot of f-free time.” 

“Great! We’re free at that time, too! If you want to, we can meet you here or you can meet us at the Northwest Compound. Whatever works!”

Leo gulped. “Sure. Both works.” He hurriedly replied. “Can I return to my work? The boss will be mad if he thinks that I’m slacking.” 

Mabel nodded at him. “Sure!”

“Alright. T-Thanks for the offer.” Leo said to her as he walked away. 

Mabel turned to Dipper as Leo disappeared over a stack of crates. She was practically vibrating at the spot at the prospect of yet another romance. 

Yeah. 

“He’s. So. Cute!” She mouthed to him. Dipper looked at her with a poker face and slowly raised his right brow. 

“Yeah. So?” He replied, trying to sound as serious and uncaring as possible. 

“So?!” Mabel faked an exaggerated reaction. “Dipper, he’s stunning! He’s like, the, I dunno, the. . . image of Piltover!”

“The image of Piltover.” Dipper snorted. “Right.”

“Look, Dipper. Just act nicely! This is a chance for me to experience Piltovan love!” Mabel pleaded as she clasped her hands together and gave Dipper the widest grin she could conceive. 

Dipper couldn’t help but chuckle, amused at his sister’s pleading. He rolled his eyes and put a hand on Mabel shoulder.

“Alright, Mabel, but don’t try and climb into my bunk when it inevitably ends up badly.” Dipper said to her. She pumped her hands up in the air, happy that he’d finally caved in. 

“You’re the best bro ever!” Mabel exclaimed as he hugged Dipper tightly, emptying his lungs of air. 

Eventually, the helper named Tany came to help them carry the crate to the Northwest Compound. As they walked through the Piltovan streets, with the crate safely deposited on Tany’s cart, Mabel hopped around excitedly at the prospect of yet another friendship. Dipper knew that she would eventually aim to have it be more than that, though. 

He knew that that’s how Mabel worked.


	7. Meeting in the Gardens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While taking a walk after working on the lab, Dipper finds himself meeting the daughter of Preston Northwest.

Dipper watched as his Grunkle Ford carefully spilled the sapphilite oil that they had hauled yesterday into a hexagon-shaped dish. Blue sparks of ocean magic and arcana flowed and ebbed as the oil took the dish’s form, much to his amazement. He looked up and beyond the glowing disc to meet his sister’s equally amazed eyes. 

“It looks so. . . magicky.” Dipper commented as Ford put down the now-empty flask. 

“Magicky is the right word, Dipper.” Ford said as he wiped his brow. “Sapphilite is a great conductor of arcane magic, and that’s why this material is so coveted across the world.” 

“Is that why it’s expensive?” Mabel asked as she turned her eyes away from the stuff. 

“Partly.” He turned to Mabel and put a hand to her head. “Sapphilite comes from Jaull fish, a great sea-beast found only in the serpent isles. People die over a single flask of these, though if they do manage to secure one just like this, it can pay their efforts ten times over.”

“Huh. For some reason, it doesn’t surprise me that the Northwests can get a drop of this stuff.” She replied, satisfied with Ford’s answer as she went back to observing the dish.

“What are you two going to use it on?” Dipper looked to his Grunkle Stan, who was writing down on a blueprint that lay in the table. He looked up from his work and took off his reading glasses.

“You’ll see, Dipper. You’ll see.” Stan vaguely replied.

“But I want to see it now!” Mabel whined, putting her hands together and pleading. 

“That don’ wok on me no more.” The rough-mannered Pines replied with a hearty chuckle. Mabel immediately cleaned her crocodile tears and pouted.

“Whatever It is, I’m excited. Maybe because it’s supposed to be worth ten times that of a ship’s crew--WOAH” Dipper said as he leaned back on his seat. He forgot it was a stool, however, and he promptly fell down to the ground. 

Mabel immediately burst out in laughter. Ford stood up and looked over to where Dipper fell with a worried expression on his face while Stan merely looked at him from the corner of his eye.

“Are you okay, Dipper?” Ford asked the stunned boy. 

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine.” The inquisitive Pines replied as he put a hand to the back of his head and rubbed it. “Ooh. I forgot how much falling down hurts.” 

“Haha! Humpty Dumpty fell off the wall!” Mabel jeered, much to the annoyance of Dipper. 

“Mabel! Are you saying that I have a big head or that I’m fat?!”

====

Dipper walked alone on the front gardens of the Northwest Compound after their work had been done. Dipper still doesn’t know what it is about, though by the way it’s going he supposes that he won’t have to wait any longer. 

He was lingering on his thoughts as he walked when the most serene voice that he’d heard entered his ears as they hummed. 

“Hello? Mabel, is that you?” Dipper looked around, a brow raised, as he tried to see where the singer was. 

There was no reply except for the shuffling of leaves. 

Dipper strained his ears to try and find where those sound were coming from. He eventually pieced together that the sound was coming from the general direction of the fountain.

“Hello hello?” Dipper called out again as he parted two bushes to cut through the maze. 

The fountain was just over the next hedge, and through the spaces between the leaves, he swore that he could make out someone in yellow walk past it. Dipper picked up the pace, and as he parted yet another hedge, he saw that the person in question was the girl that he’d seen on their first day. 

“Hey!” Dipper yelled at her in a friendly tone.

The girl froze. She slowly turned around to look at him, confused, as she put a white-gloved hand on her side. Up close, Dipper could see that she was big on make-up, her face covered with some of the products that he’d seen on crates back at the Sun Gates. 

“Yes?” She asked in a sassy tone.

_”Oh Janna. She really is Piltover personified.”_ Dipper thought to himself. “Nothing. I just heard some singing and I checked it out. Was it you?”

“It is. What of it, Dipper Pines?” She replied with the same amount of venom as she fully turned to face him. She parted the golden locks that had managed to drop down to her forehead as she scrutinized Dipper from head to toe. 

Now it was his turn to freeze. He’s never told her of his name, hasn’t he?

“How do you know my name?” He asked as he scratched the back of his neck. 

“M-My father told me, obviously.” She answered as she rolled her eyes, a bit of hesitation in her voice.

Dipper’s eyes widened a bit. So this was Preston Northwest’s daughter. . .

_”I need to keep my manners when around her. Don’t want to mess things up for my Grunkles.”_ He noted to himself. 

“So. . .?” The girl drawled out as she impatiently waited for his reply. She plucked a flower from one of the rose bushes nearby.

“Ah! Right! Well, I should have expected that. Haha.” Dipper chuckled awkwardly as he was rudely dragged out from his thoughts. He found himself unable to form complex sentences in her presence, and only then did he realize that he, Dipper Pines, was being intimidated. Do I

He was, in his mind, greatly intimidated by the girl due to many factors. The ones that come to the forefront of his mind right now, however, are two things. First—the girl was absolutely stunning. Both literally and figuratively. She was stunning because she imposed a weight on the people around her, as if she was commanding subservience. She was also stunning because frankly, she was beautiful from head to toe. 

The second factor he could think of is that the girl simply gave off an aura. She was pampered, she was graceful, she was elegant and she was _refined_. The amount of class within her, no doubt fashioned by her parents, simply gave her a gravity of her own that told people that she was above them.

“Right.” She put the flower on her hair, slotting it on the top-right. “The name is Pacifica Northwest, at your service.” Pacifica gave Dipper a little curtsy as she introduced herself. 

“Well. Hum.” Dipper gave a shabby little bow. “As you already know, the name is Dipper Pines. A-At your service.” 

Pacifica scanned him from bottom to top, an unimpressed look on her face. “Not bad, but your posture needs a lot of work that I simply have no time for. Yet.” Pacifica dug into the depths of her dress and took out a fan, snapping it open.

“Do I? I’m not exactly. . . an elegant person.” He replied as he walked to the fountain and sat on it. 

“We will time soon enough, just not now.” Pacifica contemplated sitting beside him, though she eventually decided against it.

“A-A lot of time?”

Pacifica put a hand to her forehead and shook her head. “You speak too much. You live here now, don’t you? We’ll be seeing each other almost every day. I just so happen to not have time for you today.”  


“Oh. I. Uh. See.” Dipper meekly replied.

Pacifica sighed and fanned herself. “Pines, if you’re aiming to bore me to death as a sick form of entertainment, then drop it. I’m not feeling like dropping because you keep being a social outcast.”

Dipper’s cheeks heated up. “W-Well, I. . .”

“Oh, shush. You know what you are.” She walked over to Dipper and pointed at where he was sitting. “Get up. My legs are getting tired.”

“. . . Why don’t you just sit beside me?” His cheeks burned even brighter at his spontaneous suggestion. “I-I mean—“

Pacifica rolled her eyes once more. “You wish, Pines. Get. Up.” 

Dipper got up from where he was sitting and walked aside. He bowed at Pacifica and pointed at where he was. “Your seat, your highness.” 

Pacifica sat on Dipper’s former spot before she promptly smacked him in the head with her fan. Dipper staggered back as he rubbed the back of his head.

“Ow! That’s already sore, you know!” He exclaimed.

“Grow up, Pines.” Pacifica crossed her arms and looked up at him, a brow raised. “I didn’t even wind up my hand enough to make you wish you got run over instead.”

Dipper didn’t answer as he continued massaging his own head. A few moments of silence passed between them, only filled with the chattering of the birds, the rustling of leaves, and of course, the sounds of the artisans and artificers present all over the compound. Pacifica merely watched him as he as he continued ‘licking’ his wounds, an incredulous look on her face. 

After yet another minute, bells from all over Piltover chimed, signalling the passing of the fourth hour. 

Pacifica stood up and adjusted her dress and her hair. “As much as I wish to look at you flinch for hours over a single hit, I have got to go home.”

“You. . . don’t live here?” Dipper replied as he turned to look at her.

“No? This is for artificers and such. I just visit here because, well, I’m mandated to be here by my father at certain times.” She answered a she started walking to the maze’s exit.

“Well. I guess this is goodbye for now, eh?” 

Pacifica turned her head to Dipper. “It is. If it pleases you, I must say that we are well met.”  


Dipper looked down to the ground and chuckled. “Thanks, I guess.”  


She gave him a rare yet half-hearted smile as she finally walked out of the maze and out of Dipper’s sight. 

Dipper turned to the opposite direction. He looked up, and for a second, he swore that he saw Preston Northwest up on one of the top floors of the building. _”He must’ve been watching us.”_ Dipper thought as he stated walking back to the lab.


	8. Hanging out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper and Mabel prepare to hang out with their new friend Leo.

“Dipper?” Grunkle Ford called out for him.

Dipper got up from his bed. He wiped his eyes and yawned before descending to the floor using the ladder that connected the two beds together. He turned around, hoping to see Mabel, but she had apparently already gotten up. 

“Dipper, what’s takin’ you so long?” Stan’s gruff voice echoed across the room, causing Dipper to jump up a bit in surprise. 

“Oh, uh, coming!” He replied as he turned to the curtain-door.

Dipper then walked towards it and slowly parted the fabric right down the middle and poked his head through. Through it, he could see that his Grunkles were gathered around the table once again, mugs in their hands. 

“There you are. Come on over here, Dipper!” Ford pulled out a stool and pushed it towards Dipper.

“What’s up?” Dipper asked as he walked over to the stool and set it between his two Grunkles. 

Stan grabbed a cup that they had prepared earlier and filled it with water before sliding it over to Dipper. He nodded to his Grunkle Stan as a gesture of thanks and drank from it as if he was dehydrated. Well, he partially was, considering that the last thing he drank was water from last night. 

“The reason we woke you up is because. . .your Grunkle Stan and I have discussed something regarding our views on our work.” Ford explained after he took a sip on his own cup.

“What the smartass says is that we’re allowin’ ya’ to work on the hextech stuff we make, Dipper.” Stan clarified, a big smile on the oaf’s face. 

Dipper froze in place. He slowly set down his coffee mug and stood up, his hands firmly set on the edge of the table. He looked at Grunkle Stan and then to Grunkle Ford, an unbelieving look on his eyes. 

“C-Can you. . . repeat that?” He said to them, his voice filled with badly-contained excitement. 

Ford laughed. “Dipper. . . what we said is that. . .”

He slowly raised his hands and touched his forehead. Dipper was confused at this gesture, though he would find himself even more confused when, suddenly, Ford suddenly yanked his hand up, revealing that his face was a mask. . . 

Dipper’s face suddenly contorted into pure horror as he saw what was under it. . .

“We said that it’s the weekends and it’s time for us to hang out with Leopold!” Mabel said in her usual ever-excited voice.  
Dipper breathed in. . . and screamed.

====

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!” He yelled out as he woke up with a start, his hands raised up as if in surrender. He looked around, still screaming, though he finally stopped when he saw Mabel’s face. 

“WHAAAt is it, Mabel? I was having such a good dream until you had to butt in!” Dipper said to her in an annoyed tone. “And what are you doing in my bunk?!” 

“Dipper! I told you already! It’s the weekends and we gotta hang ouuuuut!” Mabel said in a pleading voice. “I’m sorry I just woke you up, but can we go, pleaaase?”

“You woke me up from a good dream and almost turned it into a nightmare. . . to hang out with that cargo boy.” Dipper restated, his tone becoming more sarcastic with each passing word. 

“Yes!” She took hold of Dipper’s shoulders and shook them. “Come oooooon!”

He closed his eyes and massaged his temples.

“Mabel. Why do I have to go?” Dipper asked Mabel weakly. 

“Because if I go alone it will be too obvious, duh!” She replied while waving a hand at Dipper’s face. “You don’t want to be too forthcoming when it comes to love, you know.”

He snickered as he rolled his eyes. “Right. Ol’ Mabel worries about being too forthcoming.” Dipper shook his head. “Man.”

“Are you going or not?” She said as she crossed her arms and pouted. 

“Fine, fine. Just get off my bed and let’s get this over with.” He answered with a sigh.

Mabel squealed and gave Dipper a quick hug. The latter reluctantly reciprocated the hug before shoving her off and shooing her away. The ecstatic sparkle-girl obliged excitedly as she practically jumped off the bunk and onto the floor. 

Dipper took off his current shirt once Mabel had ran out and into the laboratory. He smelled it for a bit—which was frankly a bad idea—before throwing it away and grabbing another one from the neat pile placed upon the shabby shelf placed above his head. He slowly put the shirt on before he, too, climbed down the bunk and went on his way. 

On the living room, Stan and Ford were not present as they were in his dream. Their plans and cups still laid scattered around the table, so it is likely that they just went out for a little break. Dipper considered it weird that they still work at weekends, but if it makes them happy, then so be it. 

Mabel was now in front of a mirror that they had propped up earlier this week. She was adjusting her Piltovan outfit—a simple white blouse and a yellow skirt—in my ways that Dipper thought was unnecessary and pedantic. Not that he’d understand; the only grooming that he ever did to himself was to comb his hair and make sure that he didn’t wear anything backwards.

“Get yourself ready, Dipper! And, uh, take a bath. I can smell ya’ from here.” Mabel sneered while she straightened a stray crease on her skirt. “It’s not a good smell.”  


He rolled his eyes and tutted. “It builds character, Mabel.” 

“Whatever. Just get ready alllllreeeaaddyy!”

====

Dipper and Mabel were now waiting at a bench a few feet off the perimeters of the Northwest compound. They were currently talking about what they could do as well as where they could possibly hang out. Both of them were poring over the map they were given, studying the names and the locations themselves.

“I think that we should head to Tajinki’s Parlor. I think they sell ice cream there!” Mabel said as she pointed at the mark on the map. There wasn’t really anything to go off besides the name, and Dipper just had to point that out. 

“. . . It may just be a salon, Mabel.” He said as he traced his hand around the map, trying to find a suggestion of his own. “See, we could try going to the—“

“—The University of Piltover. Great idea.” Mabel dryly replied. 

“I mean, we might see some interesting stuff.” Dipper shrugged. 

Mabel puffed her cheeks up and snickered. “Yeah. Some real interesting stuff like, uhhh. . . reading! And reading! On a weekend!” She traced an arch on the air with her hands as she spoke.

“Sure. Next thing you’re gonna say is that we should go to the sweets bakery right on this street.” Dipper pointed at a spot on the map labelled ‘Manny’s Sweet’s Shop’. 

Mabel leaned towards the map and put her hands to her cheeks, her face glowing. “WOAH! How did I not notice that?! Great idea, bro!” She said as she lifted one of her hands to jab Dipper at the side.

“Yay me.” He replied with not even a single ounce of energy. 

Suddenly, both of the twins hear footsteps coming their way. It wasn’t unique from the other ones they’ve heard—Piltovan shoes made the same crisp sound despite their differences in size and style due to the way that Piltovans made them, but it carried a certain graceful characteristic that wasn’t found on the boots of anyone else that they’ve encountered so far. 

Well, Dipper kind of has. He thought back to his encounter with Pacifica and Northwest and concluded that she carried that grace, too.

Dipper and Mabel looked around as they tried to find the source of the sound, though they didn’t have to look long. On the other side of the street was Leopold himself, still clad in the same clothes that he wore when they first met. He had his hands on his pockets and a slight smile on his face as he crossed the street to approach the two. 

Dipper noted that in the bright morning sun—Leopold looked really pretty for a boy. He quickly purged that thought from his mind, however.

“What’s up, guys?” He meekly said towards them once he had crossed the street. 

Mabel practically melted into a puddle beside her brother. “N-Nothing much, Leo!” She said in a quasi-squeal.

 _Oh boy. Again._ Dipper thought to himself in exasperation.

“Yeah, we haven’t really had anything else to do besides work ourselves. How are you, Leo?” Dipper said to the blond boy as he slid to the left end of the bench, freeing up some space for Leo to sit on. 

He sat down on the newly-freed spot and leaned back on the bench. “Good, I guess. I’m pretty much on the same boat as you guys, all work, no play. Not that I don’t have anyone to play with.”

Mabel turned to Leo, a brow raised. “You don’t have any friends?” She asked, concerned.

“Yeah. I got none down the docks. Not that I mind it too much.” The slight quiver in his voice told the twins otherwise. Dipper and Mabel stole a glance at each other while Leo spaced off at the sky. 

Mabel placed a hand on his back and patted him twice. “We have no friends up here in Piltover, too. Guess there’s three less lonely people in Valoran now, huh?” She said to Leo with a wide smile.

Leo felt his cheeks heat up, though he seems bothered by that fact. Dipper felt him shuffle in place uncomfortably in his seat as the blond boy tried to smile.

“. . . I guess.” He simply replied.

“That’s real touching.” Dipper interjected in a tone that suggested that he felt otherwise. “But do we know where we’re gonna hang out, instead of, you know, Piltover’s sidewalks?”

“Oh! Right! Don’t you guys have any idea?” Leo turned to Dipper.

“Not really. We aren’t from here, so we don’t remember much.” He replied, shrugging.

Leo smirked, an idea forming on his head. “Then that means you’re from Zaun! How about you guys take me there instead?” 

Mabel and Dipper looked at each other, as if asking the other to answer for them. Both twins were incredibly hesitant; for one, who knows what their Grunkles would think if they headed back down to Zaun? And two, what could possibly happen if they bring Leo down there? Zaun is dangerous—even the upper floors, which are renowned for being one of the only places in Zaun to be considered remotely safe, still posed a huge threat on a Piltie, let alone someone their age. 

. . . Yet many minutes later, the twins found themselves escorting Leo to the entrance to Zaun--after much begging from the alpha-twin for Dipper to agree, of course.. 

====

The Promenade level of Zaun is the area where the lines between Zaun and Piltover begin to make themselves clear. This level contains the upper part of the Green City, and is home to many semi-legal businesses and semi-honorable people. While this level is still shunned by most Piltovans due to the ever-present smog (though not necessarily as bad as the levels below), the people of the Promenade find themselves in amicable terms with the surrounding parts of it’s twin city.

Before they went into the level, they first provided Leo with a face-mask of sorts that combatted the hostile air of Zaun. Leo questioned why it was only him who has to wear a mask, and the twins answered by telling him that they had already been accustomed to the Zaun Gray—the aforementioned cloud of smog that always hounded the city. 

“Where are you guys taking me?” He asked the twins nervously as the three of them shuffled through the streets, each of the twins guarding Leo’s flanks. 

“We’re going to see an old friend.” Dipper replied casually. Leo turned his eyes to him and raised a brow. 

“You notified them that we’re coming? How did you do that? I was with you guys the whole time.” 

“We just know where they are. We cut ties with them long ago.” Mabel answered. 

Leo was slowly getting unnerved by all of the cryptic answers. He stopped on his tracks, causing both of the twins to turn their heads to him in confusion. 

“I’m not liking this, guys. _Who are your friends?_ ” Despite Leo’s silent and meek voice, he had managed to sound demanding, and he very much was. He was _demanding_ clear answers from them at this point.

“They’re children, just like us! They know their way around Zaun and we could get a safe passage around Zaun with their help.” Dipper hastily replied. 

“. . . Wait. Don’t tell me—“

“No.” Mabel interjected. “We—We cut ties from them long ago, like I said. We’re no longer part of their group. By old friends, we meant that we're basically just acquaintances now.”

Leo’s jaw dropped. 

“So we’re going to see. . .”

Dipper sighed and turned away from Leo. “Yeah. We’re gonna try and contact the Lost Children of Zaun.”

Leo looked down at the ground. “Oh.” 

“Do you. . . not want to go anymore?” Mabel approached Leo put a hand on his shoulder.

“I—I still want to, but. . . I’ve heard things about the Lost Children.” Leo admitted. “Rumors go around in Piltover, you know.”

Dipper, upon hearing this, turned back around and approached Leo. He put a hand on his other shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile.

“Trust me, they’re nothing like the stories say they are.” The brunette said to Leo with utmost sincerity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up, buckaroos! Chapters from here on out won't have as much cuts, and the story will become less abrupt.


	9. Desnija

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mabel and Dipper find the guide they're looking for, though this simple 'hangout' may soon develop beyond what they were expecting.

The trio continued walking further down the Promenade, each of them trying their best not to meet the eyes of the others on the scene. Their walk lead them deeper and deeper down the city—and eventually, they reached the first vestiges of the Entresol level. Before they could get any further, however, Dipper set his hand in front of his two companions and shushed them. 

“We can’t go further. Not without help. Is there an alleyway that you two happened to pass by on the way here?” Dipper said to the two of them as he tried to think of an answer of his own. 

“Why didn’t you ask that before?” Mabel replied, exasperated at her brother. “Now, we have to backtrack and look even more suspicious.” But still, she thought deeply about anything they’ve come across.

“I think I saw one to the left—going in, so it must be on our right now—that could be an alley. Why? Didn’t you say that you two knew where they are?” Leo piped in as he dusted his sleeves with a silk hanky. 

“I thought that the Lost Children would be less. . . scarce. Used to be a lot of chempunks on the streets, you know, and I really thought that we’d see one of them by now, and that’s why I said that we knew where they are. The fact that they’re missing lends me to think that something is up.” Dipper walked between Leo and Mabel, a finger on his chin. “And I distinctly remember that in times that they were scarce, you can often find them on the alleyway.” He turned to Mabel. “Do you have anything that rings a bell?”

“I think I do.” His twin replied. “It might be the exact same one that Leo saw, so It’s better that we follow his lead.” 

“You need not put yourselves to an alley-chase for me, you know.” Leo said as he dipped his hands on his pockets. “We can just turn back.”

“Oh, I’m sure that that would be best. But to please the guest would be the main directive of my dear sister.” He replied in a jesting, noble tone. “In short,” He started with a small sigh. “Mabel talked herself and me into doing this for you before we first stepped into Zaun. I’m sure you overheard that conversation, and—”

“I think we get the point, so stuff it.” Mabel’s cheeks grew red with embarrassment as she chided Dipper. “I just wanted you to see Zaun, you know, since you wanted to see it badly.” 

“And another thing—what is the reason you wanted to see it, anyway?” Dipper interjected.  
“Uhm. I guess the reason I wanted to see it is that I’ve been forbidden from going here.” Leo explained, small mischievous smile on his face. “Father’s orders, you see.”

“Why? That seems narrow-minded.” Mabel replied, a confused look on her face. 

Dipper cleared his throat. “I’m sure that there’s a reason besides the dangers present in Zaun, which I can’t list without us taking all freaking day.” 

“Well, it wasn’t just that.” Leo sighed into his palm. “He said that it was dirty—” 

“True.” 

“—lawless—”

“Yep.” 

“—and filled with no-good, futureless uncivilized mongrels.” 

At this, the two twins shuffled in their place in discomfort. 

“First of all, ow. “ Dipper began. “Second of all—that is his words, isn’t it? And that you don’t believe in it like he does?” 

Leo shook his head. “It is exactly his words, but I’m quite sure that I don’t share the same opinion. Why do you think I wanted to go in here? Not only do I see for myself that he’s wrong—It’s also a good act of rebellion.” 

Both twins expressed relief. 

“Well, I’m glad.” Mabel said as she put a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “You had us for a second there, buster.”

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have recalled it completely in front of the two of you.” Leo admitted shyly. 

“Well!” Dipper exclaimed with a clap of his hands. “It’s quite alright. We’re Zaunites—we get used to it.” He said as approached the blond boy. “Let’s put your father’s words aside and lead on, Leo. We haven’t got all day to waste both our free times.”

Leo nodded at the two of them before turning around and pointing to the right side of the street. “I remember seeing it on that direction.” He said as he began to walk. “Follow me.”

The three began to walk back to the direction they came from with Leo as their leader. The boy, now half-familiar with the street, now walked with a certain confident gait. He still averted his eyes from others, however, mighty afraid of what they might do or say due to his overtly Piltovan look. A few minutes of walking later, they managed to come upon the alley that Leo had claimed to—and really had—seen. 

It stood out from all the nooks and crannies that one could have passed for an alley, mainly due to the fact that it was filled with copper pipes and brass machinery. Hot white steam blasted out of holes and vents that were present on some of the pipe, making the whole alley quite misty and stuffy. On the far end of it was a capsule of sorts that the twins recognized as a Zaunite elevator. The trio were just about to step in when the capsule shook quite heavily. After a few seconds, a shaky boy coated in assorted rags and furs came out of it with a start. He placed a gloved hand on one of the pipes as he coughed and caught his breath. 

Leo had absolutely no idea who the boy is, but the twins do. They quickly approached him and wrapped him in a warm hug, forgoing all the stains and dust that the boy was covered in. He waved the two off after quite a few seconds, and they obliged. 

“Been’a long time since we got tog’ther like this, ay?” The boy said in a thick accent. “What brings ta’ two a’ you’se here?” The boy then looked over at Leo. “And who in Janna’s gale is’sat?”

“I’m Leo.” He said as he nodded at the boy. He put his hands at his back and kept it there, unwilling to put them anywhere near the other. 

“Really! And ain’cha a shinin’ image of a Piltie.” He exclaimed. “Why’dya two bring such a pretty boy down ‘ere?”

Leo blushed madly—if from embarrassment or anger, we may never know—and shut himself up. Dipper stepped towards the boy and answered his question. 

“He’s asking for a tour of Zaun, nothing much.” He began. “And so, me and Mabel went down here with him to give him a wide berth of the city—we were hoping to get him around the entresol level too since that’s the place we grew up in.” 

The boy looked at them as if he’d been ridiculed. “If yer’ pullin’ my leg, better own up ta’ it, Pines. ‘cuz the thing you’re try’na do is mighty stupe.” 

“You’re not alone in thinking that.” Dipper sighed. “But we’re in too deep to stop now, might as well. We were hoping to get in contact with some of you guys to help us get around, like the good old days.” 

He sighed into the pipes as he swept sweat from his forehead. Streaks of dirt replaced the beads of sweat. “Bloody ‘ell, Pineses. You try’na pull ta’ leg of a seabeast or what?” He said it as if he was telling them to go back home, but the way he turned around and signaled at them told otherwise. 

“You’ll help us?” Mabel asked, still not quite sure on what he was meaning to do.

“What the ‘ell, l might as well do it.” He replied with a sigh. “The name’s Desnija, by the way, kid.” He said towards Leo as he pried the capsule door open. “Ev’ryone get inside. There’s room fer’ four small chi’dren in it.” 

The four slowly shuffled inside. The capsule was, despite all appearances, quite spacious. There were dials on one side, and the rest were all empty, unintruded space. Desnija pushed a button when they were all inside, causing the door to shut itself close with a bang.

“Where are you taking us?” Mabel asked as she got herself comfortable. “Besides the entresol level under this thing, I mean.” She clarified.

“I’nnit obvious?” Desnija bared his yellow teeth. “Wendy’s troop, s’all. Nearest o’ the lost children there is, yes.” 

Dipper went quite pale. “You’re taking us to our old troop?” He fearfully replied. Mabel seemed wuite affected by it, too, as she tried her best to keep up a smile, though it just looked more like a grimace. “Man. I don’t know what she’s gonna feel if we’re gonna crawl back there and ask for a guide.”

“Yup. Why, it’s only fair for you to an’ meet ‘er—maybe she’d take pity on ya’ and give ya’ a warm welcome, who knows?” Desnija tapped away on a panel of buttons as he spoke. “And plus, I got me a mission I gotta report, an’ I need ‘er permission from Wendy be’ore we dilly-dally with Mabel’s lil’ dalliance an’ give ‘im a little tour.”

Now it was turn for Mabel to blush. “Not everything is like that, you know. Can’t he be a friend?” 

“Oh, I do know a lotta things ‘bout ya’, sunshine. I can see it with me eyes—and look, lil’ princeling mighty likes ta’ idea of it too.” ‘Princeling’ of course refers to Leo, who was yet again red, though not quite the degree Mabel was. 

“As much as I like seeing Mabel squirm, I have a few questions.” Dipper interjected. Desnija nodded at him, signaling for him to fire away. “What’s your mission?” 

Desnija sneered. “Why, it’sa old pick’pock’ting, of course. We gotta get some coin down ‘ere—” He pointed at his pockets. “—to help meself to a few things. I had ta’ lose a petty chembaron, and pickin’ the capsule was the right thing. I reckon that ‘e just sulked back to ‘is estate and let me get away.” 

Leo raised a brow. “Isn’t that a crime?” 

The dirty boy laughed heartily. “Oh, you are CUTE!” He said in quite a patronizing tone. “No laws in Zaun, misser. Anythin’ comes, anythin’ goes. In ‘ere, crime is dubbed ‘survival’, princeling.” 

“That’s quite a depraved way to live.” Leo replied as he crossed his arms. 

Desnija frowned and pointed at the twins. “Tis’ a great mistake to bring a little princeling ‘ere. He won’t understand a yap we say even if I strike me gum like a Piltie.” He said in a disapproving tone. “Lest’ ya make him understand, I don’t think we ought to mesh well t’gether.” 

“Yeah--Uhm, Leo?” Mabel turned to the boy. “You see—”

He huffed. “I know, Mabel. I just don’t find myself agreeing with it—but if it’ll please you, I won’t say another word about this.” He turned to Desnija. “I understand that Zaun works like this not of it’s own accord, but I also don’t condone it in any way. Peace?” 

Desnija nodded sagely at Leo. “Peace.” He murmured as a reply before he turned back to the panel. “That’ll do, Princeling. That’ll do.” 

The rest of the ride was silent, save for the creaking of the capsule and the clicks of the buttons on the panel. Eventually, the capsule emitted a great hum, and the release of steam signaled that they were now there, wherever there was. The four waited anxiously for the door to open itself, as none of them were quite keen on forcing the old thing to open.

As the door of the capsule opened itself—with great difficulty—and the entresol level came into view, it was quickly made plain that Zaun was not a place for tours. Around the landscape were green vials of. . . somethings, and irregularly shaped houses and neighborhoods dotted the landscape. Sickly green lamps gave off a rather sad ambient light that lit the even sadder and grey streets. The sky above was not privy to the stars, instead, it was filled with brass pipes and steel rods that supported the level above it. Stray bluish-green light from the Promenade provided a mockery of sunlight. People of all shapes and sizes—though some of them were, at this point, more machine than people—shuffled in and out of the depressingly designed streets. Scientists of varying madness and heavily armed merchants walked freely with obviously illegal accessories—something that no Piltie could dream of parading around for all to view up there.

This was when Leo realized that they were no longer simply in Zaun, they were in THE Zaun; the true form of the green city.

“Well.” Dipper—who was still not quite himself after hearing that they’ll have to meet their old troop soon—said as he climbed out of the capsule and put a rather gentle hand on his back. “Welcome to Zaun, Leo.”


	10. Wendy's Troop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desnija takes the three to Wendy's troop.

“Ain’ a lovelier sight than this, yessir.” Desnija parted the two together and put one of his hands on each of their shoulders. Dipper just smiled and nodded, but Leo shifted uncomfortably as he tried to limit contact as much as possible. “Smell ta’ air! I feel alive, as alive as ya’ Pineses might be.”

“It does feel great to be back.” Dipper replied, his smile still true. “I almost missed the entresol smog—and it’s only been a week.”

“A week in the land o’ Pilties, eh?” Desnija shook both Leo and Dipper before he took his hands off their shoulders and walked forward. “That might be, but I ‘member you two leavin’ the Lost Children for months then.”

“Are you bitter about that?” Mabel said in a joking tone—she didn’t really want to get to Desnija’s bad side, and the time the twins had spent in the Lost Children gave them enough of an introduction to make sure that Desnija didn’t take what Mabel said too seriously.

“Oh, oh no.” He shook his head with a hearty chuckle. “Not me, sunshine. But good ol’ Wendy might’a have a little talk with you two—a long one, maybe one with’a little rifle up yer’ bums!” He slapped his knee. “Aye, just kiddin’—you know er’. She’s merciful.”

“Then we shall find out if she really is, then.” Leo said tiredly, as if he was merely tolerating Desnija’s presence. “Come on, I haven’t got all day and if my father finds out—“

“Blast your father! Why, he might’ve been glad ya’ ‘ere brought down to the green city.” He replied quite loudly, though no pedestrian paid attention to them. “Come, I know a way to get ta’ Wendy’s hideout.”

Leo frowned disapprovingly. He might’ve just asked to turn back and abandon the expedition altogether, if not for the twin’s eager faces. He realized that this trip was more than just fulfilling his wish—maybe the two just wanted to see home again and used him as a morally sound reason. He has no ill feelings towards them despite that.

The party of now-four walked through the gray cobble for a few minutes—they saw so many weird people, at least for Leo’s standards; people that were half-machine, crazed inventors, mutilated criminals—before Desnija motioned for them to go silently across to yet another alley. This alley was different from the one they were just in before; instead of a capsule elevator, there were windings paths that went left or right. It was like it was made to confuse and hide, and to newcomers it might as well had been. The dirty boy lead them left, right, up, down and so on, and eventually Leo felt dizzy. The three silently talked amongst themselves, seemingly unaffected by the jarring nature of their travels. 

He truly felt left behind at this moment, even if the twins would look back quite a lot to make sure that he doesn’t really become left behind. He’s met them only once or twice, but they considered him a friend, and since Leo doesn’t know how to handle friends, he has been feeling a little clingy. Ever since that Desnija came and muddled everything up, he no longer had anything meaningful to contribute to their conversations, and a little something told him that it was going to continue to be that way.

A while later, Desnija and the twins finally stopped. Leo almost bumped to Mabel at their sudden, jarring stop. He looked up and saw what they were looking at; it was a run-down house of sorts, unpainted and most likely unmaintained. Its walls were made with a mix of dusty stone at the base and dark, hollow wood at the top. The roof was very bare and bland, in addition to it being a simple flat plane instead of the artisanal domes often found in the city of progress. A little quirk it had, though, was the fact that it had ladders and ropes everywhere. Leo supposed that the Lost Children, with their reputation for mischief and crime, used those for quick getaways and quick deployments. In that, he was very much right.

Desnija approached the door after a few moments and knocked on it. A shabby peep-hole opened, revealing the pale green eyes of a noticeably fair-skinned girl.

“Password?” She asked in a high-pitched voice, something Leo hadn’t quite expected. 

“You know who it is, Chiu. Open ta’ door alrea’y!” He impatiently replied. 

“Chiu? Candy?” Mabel piped up as she heard the name and ran to the front door, much to Desnija’s annoyance. “Hello! It’s been so long!” She gushed at the peep-hole with a wide grin.

Candy’s eyes widened as she saw who was on the front door now. Her forehead wrinkled as she gave a wide and giddy smile at once. She immediately opened the door and tackled the sparkle-girl with all her might, which, considering her thin frame, wasn’t much.

“Long time no see, Chiu.” Dipper waved meekly at the girl. She was wearing a faded green shirt hidden underneath a tattered brown coat; a type of apparel is apparently quite popular amongst the Zaunites. She had glasses that evidently weren’t taken care of in a long time, though Candy didn’t seem to mind. She also had raven black hair that flowed down her back.

“Ooh, Dipper! You’re here, too? When was the last time—“ 

Desnija cleared his throat. “Touching reunion, ‘eally. I’m chilled to ta’ skin an’ bone. Can we get this over with and get to ta’ point?” 

Candy glared at Desnija, but she nodded at him nonetheless. “Alright.” She said as she let go of Mabel. “I guess we’re gonna put off _everything_ for now. What’s the business, Des? And who’s this little looker?” The last part was of course aimed towards Leo. The boy did not blush this time—he’s heard that part way too much now that he isn’t flustered at the thought of it anymore. 

“This guy—“ Desnija put a heavy hand on Leo’s back. “Is a little friend o’ the Pineses. He’s lookin’ for a look-see o’ the place, y’see. Would be a mighty shame to stop a Piltie princeling from feelin’ the Zaunite experience, innit?” 

Leo was not quite fond of the term princeling—it’s not like he thought he wasn’t, but the word felt a little condescending.

“As for ta’ business, I got a little summin’ that might’a attract ta’ boss’ eye.” He tapped on his pockets with his other hand, causing whatever was inside to jingle. “And maybe we can also chance `a little bit of yet anotha’ reunion, as per the Pineses ‘return’ o’ sorts.” He added as he pointed to Dipper and Mabel.  
“Hmmm. . . “ Candy murmured as she adjusted her glasses, not out of necessity but simply for show. “I see. Most of the troop is currently out on their respective missions, with the current time being the morning and all that, but Wendy is available for an audience.”

“You make it sound like that she’s ruling some kind of kingdom.” Dipper joked. “But I suppose with how tight-fisted she is, it might as well be.”

“Perhaps she’d like to hear that. Follow me, all of you. I’ll lead you to her.” Candy said to them as she turned around and walked inside the house. “And close the door behind you—thanks!”

The four followed after Candy shortly after. Desnija was the last to enter, and therefore he was in charge of closing the door. It creaked painfully on the way in as opposed to the silent nature of its opening. 

The first room they saw upon entering was the living room. If the outside of the house was considered bland, the living room was it’s polar opposite. There were cabinets and boxes everywhere that were filled with scrap and assorted materials. Various scrapworks and stolen items were placed precariously on the walls which made them seem like trophies of some sort. There was a big table in the middle flanked by several stools, and upon it were materials and supplies for arts and crafts. It seems like the troop weren’t too keen on being clean, or they were just tardy on this particular day.

On the left end of the living room, there was a creaky-looking stairwell. Candy led them to it and told them to watch their steps as she ascended them. It was fitting advice, as Leo almost shot his foot through a particularly disjointed step. He earned a pinch from her for messing up just as she told him not to, which didn’t sit very well with him. Eventually, they reached the second floor without any major injuries.

The second floor looked like a big mess hall of sorts. It had numerous bunk beds for it’s orphaned members—as well as some others that were used for emergencies—and several sets of small seats and tables that were used for eating. There were boxes of stuff too, which most likely belonged to those who resided up in here. On the far end, on the other hand, was a small open kitchen, which wasn’t interesting at all. What was interesting about it, however, is the red-haired teen that was cleaning a pile of dishes on it using a sponge, a pail and a barrel of water. 

Dipper and Mabel were rooted to their places as they watched their old leader. Leo still didn’t have an idea of who all these people are, and frankly, he didn’t give a single toss about any of them. He was here for the sights of Zaun, and that’s all he cared for—for now. Candy cleared her throat before she spoke.

“Chief Wendy!” Candy called out to her.  
Wendy turned around, confused. 

“Candy! Didn’t I tell you to—“ Wendy’s eyes widened. “Wait, is that—“

“Yuppa, chief.” Desnija interjected. “It’s ya’ olde’ Pineses. They’re back at Zaun for ta’ day and they brought along a little friend.” He shoved Leo in front. “Lookin’ good, innit, chief?”

Wendy scanned all of their faces for a few moments, her face contorting to different expressions as he switched between Mabel, Dipper and Leo. After all that, she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I. . . I don’t know what to say about this. Can anyone take a seat for a sec’? Anywhere can do—I don’t care. I just gotta process this whole shitshow.”

“You heard the ma’am.” Candy turned to the others and pointed at the chairs. “Skedaddle, all of you!” 

Everyone did as they were told. They walked to the nearest chairs and got themselves as comfortable as possible, which wasn’t really that comfortable at all. Candy was the last one to sit as she made sure that everyone had seated themselves first. Leo supposed that the reason she did this was because she was Wendy’s secretary, and in this he was right.

Wendy continued to wash the dishes as she pieced everything that’s in front of her. Bit by bit, she managed to make sense of everything, and when she was finally ready, she abandoned her work and turned to face everyone in the room. She took a clean rag in the corner and dried out her hands as she began to speak.

“Well. . . I—I guess I made sense of everything.” She said with a chuckle as she scanned the faces of Dipper, Mabel and Leo once more. “Despite. Like. Everything.” 

“Perhaps it would do well if they explained why they’re here first.” Candy suggested. “I already know why, but it is best if you hear it from them yet again.”

“Well, that’s the ticket. Explain yourselves and everything will go along nice, smooth and healthily.”  
She pointed at the three with three fingers. “Tell me why you’re here, your business—Desnija, sit down. I already know how your mission went—and the reason you brought a Piltie with you back to our base.”

And so, Dipper and Mabel recounted everything again. They were partially tired of telling the same story, but it had to be done. Wendy hummed and nodded as she listened intently, giving an impression that she didn’t have any ill will towards the two leaving the troop months before.

“First of all—“ She begun after they had finished telling her everything. “—I’m glad to see you two again. I know that you guys left the troop after your uncles got busy with their chemtech and that’s okay, no bad vibes at all.” Wendy then turned to Leo. “But the thing is, I can’t really spare any men right now. Even Desnija, as foolish as he is—“

“Hey!”

“—is an important asset that we can’t afford to lose.” Wendy finished with a slight frown.

“Oh.” Dipper and Mabel looked crestfallen for a second, though the latter piped up moments after. “What if we led him around instead, Wends?”

“I’m afraid that you’d say that.” The red-haired girl replied with a sigh. “We can’t really let you out here with a Piltie either. Things have changed in ways that make it dangerous for him these past few weeks.”

“Why? Is there something going on under the pipes?” Dipper asked. ‘Under the pipes’ basically meant the Zaunite underground, which is the world that most Lost Children operate in.

“Yeah, exactly. There’s something on the move. It’s. . . something that’s beyond anything we’ve seen. Come, huddle right around me—Candy, close the windows and check everything—and I’ll tell you what we know.” Wendy replied in a hurried whisper.

Everyone silently brought their chairs around Wendy as Candy made sure that nobody was listening. Once all was in order, Wendy began her own story.

“Look, the reason I can’t let you roam around here for too long is that there’s rumors of a demon of sorts. It’s not Tahm or Two-coats, but he might as well be yet another one of. . . well, him.” She murmured. 

Leo recognized who she was talking about. Tahm Kench was a gigantic catfish that struck deals with people, and when those deals succeed, he offers them yet another one. Each time he makes an offer to someone, he demands an insignificant amount of something from them. As the deals he makes start to pile up, the amount which he demands increases and increases. In time, the person who made a deal with him will eventually be swallowed by their greed—or by Tahm Kench himself. 

“I haven’t set my eyes on it yet personally, but the other troops—Ekko, Polenta, Kaye and so on—had claimed to have received reports from the locals about the new demon. All these reports mention a triangular yellow-skinned creature with one eye and no mouth that often made deals with people, very much like Tahm Kench. He treats these deals more differently than the River King does, however, or so they say.”

“How?” Dipper asked as he was very much interested in the whole thing. This whole time that he had been listening, he had been practically vibrating in his seat. A little known hobby of his is mystery-hunting, and the possibility of a new, unknown demon that was roaming around on the sump made him quite excited.

“He only ever makes one deal per person, and while this deal is more powerful than Tahm’s, it’s repercussions were also said to be immediate.” Wendy shook her head. “It’s very scary stuff, especially with all the greed that runs around here already. I’ve already heard of several powerful chembarons assembling their own private armies to seek this demon’s aid, and by the reports that the guys had given me earlier, some of them are already on the move. That’s why I don’t think it’s safe for your little friend to be here, and neither is it safe for you. Things are changing here, and they aren’t good changes, either.”

“So, what are we to do? Just. . . go home?” Mabel was the one who asked. 

“Yes, that’s it. It’s disappointing, and I know that you two really wanted to show him around, but it is what it is.” The redhead said with a reassuring smile.

“Well, I guess that’s understandable. But why have we never heard of this before?” Dipper mused. If this had really been going on for quite a while now, surely they would have heard of it, right?

“This new demon of sorts is something that just resurfaced. He used to be just rumors and hearsay on the streets when you were here. The past week was really the one where the reports started flowing in.”

“Does this demon just haunt Zaun, or. . .” 

“It’s also been known to be in Piltover. Robbie was up there two days ago on a run, and he swears that he’s heard of some whisperings about the demon up there too.” She answered.

“Who does this demon often visit? Like, does it only visit rich people or everyone regardless of societal standing?” Leo asked, much to the surprise of the others.

“I. . . honestly don’t have a clue, but the only person who reportedly made a deal with him was Ms. Corina.” Wendy replied. Corina Veraza was a known botanist in Zaun; she owned many greenhouses and gardens around Zaun that had genetically modified plants. “And as everyone here knows, even you, Piltie—“

“Yeah. She’s rich.” Leo affirmed.

“So, I wouldn’t be surprised if this demon wants to be in league with the big bucks, one way or another.” 

Leo seemed uncomfortable with this possibility. He shifted in his seat and often looked back at the stairs, which was something that the twins had noticed.

“Do you want to go home now, Leo?” Dipper asked the blond boy. “I’m sorry that we can’t take you around anymore. We didn’t know that—“

“It’s okay.” He smiled back at the brunette. “I enjoyed my time here, and I enjoyed meeting your old squad. But yeah, if we could go home now, that would be great.”

Mabel turned to Wendy. “I guess we’re gonna go now. This has been kind of disappointing, but we trust you to know what you’re talking about. I hope that you guys stay safe, even if the chembarons are tightening security.”

Wendy chuckled heartily. “Don’t worry about us! We’re like, the best squad out there. Tambry’s a tech magician, Candy’s a mathematical wizard, Desnija is. . . him. . .”

“Very funny.” Desnija said with a huff.

“And the rest of the boys are pretty much the best hands you could get.” She winked. “We’re In pretty good shape here, even I the wonder twins aren’t here anymore.”

Dipper and Mabel smiled widely. Wendy opened her arms and the two jumped to a group hug. Candy followed shortly after—as she also clearly attempted to get closer to Dipper-after a grumpy Desnija begrudgingly gave Wendy a one-armed hug. Leo felt uncomfortable at the moment, but when Dipper and Mabel opened a spot in between them, he felt a smile prop up on his face.

“Aw, whatever.” He murmured as he joined the group hug.

A few moments later, they disjointed the hug and separated.

“Desnija, you better escort the three the way they came.” Wendy dictated to him. “And as for the Piltie—you’re good on my book, kid. You aren’t anything like those up there, despite being pretty much the image of Piltover. Has he heard that already?”

“Yeah.” Desnija said with a snicker. “I call ‘im that a little time before. He really shines like one, innit?”

Leo grinned. “Well, I suppose I am. Thanks for your hospitality, Chief Wendy.”

“Just Wendy for you three, peeps. I ain’t your chief anymore.” She replied. “Remember that!”

====

The three were now back at the very entrance of the Promenade level. Desnija had led them all the way back and to the capsule elevator that they went into earlier. By the time they came up, they realized that the whole thing had taken them almost three hours. It was now the afternoon, and their parents were probably out looking for them at this point. The dark nature of Zaun had made them quite sensitive to sunlight, too, and so they had to stay awhile at the entrance before their eyes resettled on the bright golden aesthetic of the city.

“Guess this is where we split up.” Leo said to them once he was able to see clearly. 

“Yeah.” Mabel and Dipper replied in unison.

“It’s been fun, isn’t it?” The latter continued. “And I know you felt a bit out of place—really, we’re sorry. But next time we hang out together, you can pick where we go and we’ll be the ones out of touch.”

Leo chuckled. “It’s alright. Your friends are nice, especially that Candy girl.” 

“How nice?” Mabel asked. Leo turned to her with an arched brow.

“Why, she’s a nice friend is all.” He answered. “Don’t worry—I think you’re nice, too.” Leo added as he winked.

“Of course I am. I’m like, the nicest girl out there.” Mabel replied proudly. 

Dipper shrugged. “I don’t think the nicest girl would say that—OOF.”

Mabel had socked her twin right on the stomach. Leo snickered at the sight of a surprised Dipper, who was a better sport than anyone could’ve expected. All three of them continued in this fashion—eventually, they’d stalled themselves so much that half an hour passed by before they finally split. Leo headed to the left and the twins headed to the right, though Mabel would later remark that she swears that she saw Leo near the Northwest Compound.

**Author's Note:**

> And that was that! What do you think? Don't forget to leave opinions, reactions and such below!


End file.
